김남준 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw | idol!namjoon • domestic boyfriend!namjoon • fluff • comfort • clingy joon • long distance during tours • lots of physical affection • late night calls • lowercase intended
┈ [ ✉️ ] Hi angels !! domestic boyfriend!joonie was requested by @gottafightwhentheysaybehave !! Your wish is my command my love !! Namjoon has actually been like doing things to me lately - all these clips of him in a tanktop and sweating has me... feeling things. But any-whom !! I hope you all like and enjoy this !! Happy reading !!
before tour boyfriend!namjoon :(
— gets thoughtful before tours instead of emotional about it. suddenly he’s spending more time beside you in comfortable silence, like he’s trying to soak in the feeling of home before leaving again
— leaves little reminders of himself around the apartment without realizing it. books stacked beside the bed. hoodies over chairs. half-finished notes in his handwriting tucked into random places :(
— the type to stand in the kitchen late at night talking to you about absolutely everything before he leaves. music, life, fears, dumb observations, future plans. conversations with him always somehow feel endless
— buys you books before tour starts because “you’ll think of me when you read this part”
— definitely writes things in the margins too :( underlined sentences that reminded him of you or tiny “this is us” notes beside paragraphs
— starts sleeping closer to you before leaving. one arm heavy across your waist while he reads until he falls asleep halfway through the page
— acts composed the morning he leaves but keeps pausing before walking out the door like his body physically doesn’t want to go yet
during tour boyfriend!namjoon :(
— sends you long paragraphs at random hours because something reminded him of you and suddenly he has a lot to say
— the type to send pictures of ordinary things instead of glamorous tour stuff. a museum he visited. rainy sidewalks. coffee cups. trees he passed during walks :(
— facetimes you while sitting on hotel floors surrounded by his open laptop, unfinished lyrics, and clothes he still hasn’t unpacked properly
— likes hearing about your day in detail. not just “it was good.” he wants the small parts too. what you ate. what annoyed you. what made you laugh
— sometimes goes quiet after concerts because the adrenaline crash makes him miss home harder than usual
— admits he misses sleeping beside you more than he expected :( says hotel rooms always feel too cold and unfamiliar no matter how nice they are
— sends voice notes while walking alone at night coming from the gym after schedules. low sleepy voice mixed with city sounds in the background
— keeps one of your sweaters draped over hotel chairs during tours because it makes unfamiliar rooms feel a little softer somehow
— when he can’t sleep he rereads old conversations between you two instead of texting because he knows you’re probably asleep
after tour boyfriend!namjoon :)
— coming home with him feels grounding :) like the entire apartment relaxes the second he walks back into it
— stands in the doorway for a second after getting home just looking around quietly before smiling to himself like “okay. i’m back”
— absolutely the type to pull you into the kitchen while he makes coffee in the morning just so he can stand there talking to you sleepily while sunlight comes through the windows
— domestic routines become sacred to him after tour :) museum dates. grocery shopping together. sitting on opposite ends of the couch reading while your feet touch
— gets soft seeing all your little habits again. the way you organize things. the mugs you always use. hearing you moving around in the mornings
— spends the first few nights back tangled up beside you talking until late because there’s too much he wanted to tell you in person
— honestly looks happiest doing the most boring things with you :) game nights, watering plants together, sitting quietly while music plays from the tv in the apartment
— after tour he loves you in an even steadier way. calmer. deeper. like every time he comes home to you he remembers what parts of life actually matter most
Perm taglist : @kimmynammy @celliez @alphabetically-deranged @m4aimm @raceme2hell @bo-rimmy @mustanggbabyy @divakoo (comment or ask to be added)
Summary: Breaking up with Kim Namjoon should've been the end. The problem was… He never accepted the breakup. "In my dictionary, we're not broken up."
Status: One-shot | Between Collisions Series
Pairing: Idol!Namjoon x Reader
Word Count: 8.8k~
Genre: Idol!AU, Angst, Fluff
Rated: PG
Tags: Ex-Boyfriend?Namjoon, Secret, Drama, Slice of Life
Posting Date: July 2, 2026
SCC: Ko-fi ☕️ ・ Taglist 📝
That night, your apartment felt far too quiet.
Not because there was no sound beyond the window or because the rain that had been falling since the afternoon continued to slowly soak the balcony, but because for the first time in years, your phone had truly stopped being the thing you constantly waited for. It had been one month since your relationship ended. Thirty strange days, because breaking up with Kim Namjoon didn't feel anything like the movies filled with tears, shouting, or doors being slammed shut. None of that happened. There was only a brief conversation in the middle of the night when you finally admitted that you were tired.
Tired of waiting.
Tired of understanding.
Tired of always being the one who said, "I know you're busy."
At that moment, Namjoon stayed silent for a long while before answering in such a calm voice that it only made your chest ache even more.
"If that's what you need right now... I'll respect it."
There was no plea for you to stay. No "don't leave." There wasn't even an attempt to convince you that everything would get better.
He simply accepted it.
Ironically, that acceptance hurt far more than if he had begged you to stay.
From that night on, the two of you truly stopped contacting each other.
You went back to work as usual. Waking up early, going to the office, coming home late, occasionally having dinner with coworkers, watching a series before bed, then repeating the same routine the next day. Little by little, your life returned to normal—or at least, that's what you kept telling yourself every time thoughts of Namjoon appeared uninvited whenever you looked at a bookshelf, a warm cup of coffee, or heard the songs the two of you used to listen to in the car.
You learned how to live without waiting for his notifications.
Learned not to open the news app just to check which country he was in.
Learned to stop calculating time zones every night.
And the hardest part...
Learning to accept that maybe your relationship really was over.
So when your phone vibrated at around eight that evening with the name that hadn't appeared on your screen for the past month, your entire body froze.
Namjoon.
Your heart was pounding far too fast before you even opened his message.
Namjoon:
Are you free tomorrow night?
You stared at the message for a long moment.
Then another one appeared.
Namjoon:
Eomma wants us to have dinner.
Her birthday is next week. She wants everyone together before I start my schedule again.
Your brows immediately furrowed.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for almost a full minute before you slowly typed.
You:
Joon...
We already broke up.
You deleted it.
Then typed again.
You:
Have you not told your mom yet?
Message sent.
Not even five seconds later.
The read receipt appeared.
Then the chat bubble moved again.
Namjoon:
No.
Just one word.
You let out a slow breath.
Of course.
Of course he hadn't told her.
You had already started typing another reply when another notification appeared.
Namjoon:
Because we never broke up.
You stopped breathing for a few seconds.
Your eyes reread the sentence over and over again, hoping you had somehow misunderstood it.
But no. The words remained exactly the same.
You:
What?
Your reply was sent almost immediately. Namjoon answered even faster.
Namjoon:
I never considered us broken up.
I was just giving you time.
Your brows knitted together even tighter.
You:
Namjoon, I literally told you we were over..
Namjoon:
I remember.
I remember you crying when you said it.
I remember you saying you were tired.
But you never said you stopped loving me.
Your chest suddenly felt tight.
Your fingers began typing faster.
You:
Don't twist my words, Namjoon.
I'm tired of this relationship.
Another reply came.
Namjoon:
No.
You're tired of my schedule.
That's different.
You bit your lower lip.
Angry. Irritated. Frustrated.
You:
It's the same thing.
A few seconds passed without a reply.
Then...
Namjoon:
It's not.
I already knew this phase would come.
I knew that one day you'd feel lonely.
I knew you'd get angry because I kept leaving.
I knew you'd say you wanted to give up.
That's why I didn't stop you back then.
You read every sentence slowly.
For some reason, your irritation only grew stronger.
You:
So you did it on purpose?
You stayed silent on purpose?
You let me leave on purpose?
Namjoon's reply appeared almost instantly.
Namjoon:
I let you get all of your exhaustion out.
Because if I'd stopped you...
You would've only felt even more suffocated.
I know you.
Once your emotions settle...
You would've come back.
You immediately started typing a long reply.
You:
Don't act like you know everythi—
Before you could even finish the message.
A new notification came in.
Namjoon:
Open the door.
Your brows furrowed.
Namjoon:
I'm outside.
Your heart felt as though it had dropped to the floor. Slowly, you turned toward the apartment door.
Silence. There wasn't a single sound. Maybe he was joking. Maybe he just wanted to make you panic. But the moment that thought crossed your mind...
Knock.
Knock.
Two soft knocks came from the other side of the door.
Not loud. Not rushed.
A knock that was so familiar. The same knock he always used so he wouldn't startle you. Your entire body turned cold.
Before you even realized it, your feet were already carrying you toward the door.
Through the peephole, you saw a tall man wearing a black hoodie, a cap, and a mask that concealed most of his face. His shoulders looked broader than you remembered, perhaps because for the past month, you'd only seen him through the occasional concert photos that appeared on social media. A large suitcase stood beside his feet, while his other hand rested inside his jacket pocket as though he had just stepped out of the car without even going home first.
He really had come back from tour.
And somehow… He came straight here.
You opened the door only a few inches.
"Just for a minute."
Your voice came out much quieter than you intended.
Namjoon looked at you through the narrow gap in the door. His brown eyes looked far more exhausted than they had a month ago. There were faint dark circles beneath them that even the apartment hallway lighting couldn't hide. Yet his gaze remained the same. Too calm. Too certain.
"Can I come in?"
"No."
"Okay."
His answer came so easily that it caught you slightly off guard.
He didn't insist. He didn't push the door. He didn't raise his voice. He simply stood there.
"You've lost weight."
"I'm fine."
"I know."
"But you've still lost weight."
You let out a long sigh.
"What are you doing here?"
"I..."
"We already broke up."
"I already answered that."
His tone remained flat.
Calm.
As though he were simply stating a fact that, in his mind, wasn't open for debate.
"We didn't break up."
Your patience was beginning to wear thin.
"Namjoon!"
For the first time that night, your voice rose.
"Are you even listening? I told you we're over!"
The hallway fell silent again. Namjoon looked at you for a few moments. Then he gave a small nod.
"I heard you."
"And?"
"I don't agree."
You blinked. "...What?"
"I don't agree."
He said it again. Just that simply. As though breaking up was a decision that required both parties' consent, and he had chosen not to sign anything.
"A relationship isn't a one-sided contract."
"You can't—"
"I can."
Namjoon cut you off for the first time. His voice was still low. Still gentle. Yet there was something beneath that tone that slowly made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
"You have every right to be angry."
"You have every right to be disappointed."
"You have every right to hate my schedule."
"You have every right to cry."
"You have every right to ignore me for a month."
"But don't ever say I stopped loving you."
Your chest rose and fell faster.
"I never said that."
"Exactly."
Namjoon's eyes never left yours for even a second.
"That's why I'm here."
Silence settled between the two of you once more.
He let out a quiet breath before continuing, his voice sounding rougher this time.
"I know I was wrong."
"I was too busy."
"I left you to sleep alone too many times."
"I made you wait for calls that never came too many times."
"I know."
"But don't punish me by leaving."
"I can fix this."
You lowered your head. Tears began filling your eyes again without permission.
"I'm tired..."
Your voice was barely audible.
"I know."
"I'm tired of waiting."
"I know."
"I'm tired of always being the one who understands."
"I know."
Every answer he gave chipped away at your defenses even further. But it was his next sentence that made you freeze completely.
"Then now it's my turn to be the one who understands you."
Namjoon took one step closer. He still didn't touch you. He still kept his distance. But he was close enough for you to catch the scent of the cologne that had always lingered on his hugs.
"Come have dinner with Eomma tomorrow."
"Joon..."
"That wasn't a request."
His gaze changed. It was still gentle. But now there was something much deeper, darker, and harder to read. Not anger, but a conviction so absolute that it was almost frightening. As though he'd intentionally given you space for the past month, but never because he intended to lose you. In his mind, losing you had never even been a possibility.
"I've been away from you for far too long."
A faint smile appeared on his lips. A smile that, somehow, didn't comfort anyone.
"One month is enough."
"I'm not going to make the same mistake again."
"You can stay angry for as long as you want."
"You can complain."
"You can cry."
"You can hit me if that'll make you feel better."
"But leave?"
He slowly shook his head.
"No."
His eyes remained fixed on yours.
"Don't make a habit of telling me we're breaking up."
Because for the first time since the two of you had been together, you saw a side of Kim Namjoon that he had always managed to hide behind his calm way of speaking. Not a man who had lost control, but someone who had already made up his mind and wasn't going to change that decision no matter what happened. He would give you room to be angry, time to cry, even the freedom to ignore him for as long as you needed. But the one thing he would never allow was for you to truly walk out of his life.
"I already told you..."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"...we never broke up."
"And we never will."
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Namjoon didn't stay long that night.
After the conversation that left your chest feeling even tighter, his phone vibrated several more times. He only glanced at the screen briefly before letting out a quiet sigh, as though his own body was reminding him that the time he had was never truly his to begin with. There was a flight in a few hours, meetings to attend, filming schedules to keep, and who knew how many dozens of people waiting for him somewhere else. But before all of that, he still chose to stand in front of your apartment door.
"I have to go."
You didn't answer.
Your gaze remained fixed on the floor, avoiding his eyes that hadn't truly left you since earlier. There were so many things you wanted to say, but all of them felt pointless because every sentence you spoke was met with the same unwavering certainty. In his mind, your relationship was still intact. While in yours, it had already ended a month ago.
Namjoon gave a small nod, as though he understood your silence.
"Okay."
He didn't force the conversation to continue.
He didn't try to hug you. He didn't reach for your hand.
He simply took one step closer until only a few inches remained between the two of you. Then, without asking for permission or giving any warning, he lowered his head slightly and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. The kiss was brief, so light it almost felt like nothing more than a soft breath, yet it was enough to make your entire body stiffen for several seconds.
"Get enough sleep."
His voice was low.
"Don't work overtime."
"You look exhausted."
You remained silent. You didn't reply. You didn't move.
Namjoon only smiled faintly at your stubbornness. It wasn't the smile of victory or mockery, but the smile of someone who had known you for far too long. He knew that when you chose silence, it didn't mean you weren't listening. Quite the opposite. You were trying with everything you had not to give in.
"See you tomorrow."
He turned around, pulling his black suitcase as he walked down the apartment hallway.
You didn't close the door until he had completely disappeared around the elevator corner.
That night, you couldn't sleep well.
The lingering warmth of the kiss on your forehead occupied your thoughts far longer than you wanted to admit. You kept convincing yourself that it didn't mean anything, that Namjoon had always been like that. Too calm. Too patient. Too certain. And it was that certainty that irritated you the most, as though your decision meant absolutely nothing to him.
The next morning, just as you were sitting in the office pantry, sipping coffee that had already begun to turn cold, your phone vibrated again.
Namjoon:
Seven o'clock.
I'll pick you up.
Just two sentences.
No question.
No "Can I?"
No "If you're free."
As though everything had already been decided.
You let out a long sigh before sending a short reply.
You:
I can't.
The three dots appeared almost instantly.
Namjoon:
Why?
Your fingers paused for a moment.
You:
I have work.
Even though you knew perfectly well your schedule was completely empty that night.
A few seconds passed. There was no reply. You assumed the conversation was over.
Until around five in the afternoon, your apartment doorbell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
You didn't even need to look through the peephole to know who it was.
With sluggish steps, you opened the door. Sure enough, Namjoon was standing there, wearing a simple white T-shirt beneath a light black blazer. His hair was neatly styled, his face still carried traces of exhaustion from too little sleep, yet he still looked far too put together for someone who had just finished a packed schedule. In one hand was a small paper bag from his mother's favorite bakery.
The moment he saw you, he simply smiled.
"I told you I couldn't."
"You lied."
His answer was completely flat.
You let out another long sigh.
"Namjoon..."
"If you really had work, your laptop would've already been on."
Your eyes immediately shifted toward the living room table. Your laptop was still closed.
"And you haven't showered yet."
You rubbed your temple.
"What are you doing here?"
"Picking you up."
"I already said I'm not going."
"I heard you."
"And?"
"Come inside."
He said it while taking off his shoes himself, as though this apartment was still exactly the same as it had been a few months ago.
"Namjoon."
"Come on."
He looked back at you.
"Go take a shower."
You stared at him in disbelief.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"I said I'm not coming."
"I know."
"Then why are you forcing me?"
Namjoon walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water without looking even slightly awkward. His movements were so natural, as though an entire month of never setting foot in your apartment hadn't erased his familiarity with every corner of this place. He took a slow sip before looking at you again.
"Because Eomma is waiting."
That sentence immediately made you fall silent. Namjoon knew. He truly knew.
Out of everyone in the world, the one person you could never bring yourself to disappoint was his mother.
She had always welcomed you like her own daughter. She would send you food whenever you were sick, call just to ask whether work had been treating you well, and had even secretly sent you vitamins once after Namjoon told her you'd been working overtime far too often.
You clenched your jaw.
"That's unfair."
"I know."
"You did that on purpose."
"Yeah."
Namjoon nodded without the slightest hint of guilt.
"You knew I could never say no to your mom."
You let out a quiet scoff.
"Manipulative."
"Yeah."
"Annoying."
"Yeah."
"But you're still going to take a shower."
His answer was so calm that it made you want to throw a pillow straight at his face.
Twenty minutes later, you finally stepped out of your bedroom wearing a simple outfit. Namjoon, who had been sitting on the sofa reading a book the whole time, immediately looked up. His gaze lingered on you for a few seconds before the corner of his lips slowly lifted.
"Beautiful."
You immediately looked away.
"Don't start."
"Okay."
He stood up and picked up your bag that had been lying on the table.
"Let's go."
The drive to the restaurant was filled with silence.
Namjoon didn't force you to talk. Every now and then, he would simply glance at you from behind the steering wheel, making sure your seatbelt was fastened properly or that the air conditioner wasn't too cold. The little gestures that once felt so ordinary now only made it harder for you to decide whether you should keep holding on to your anger.
By the time you arrived at the restaurant, the private dining room door was already open.
"Oh, you're finally here."
That warm voice greeted the two of you immediately.
Namjoon's mother was the first to stand, wearing the same warm smile as the last time you had seen her. Beside her sat Namjoon's father, smiling kindly as he closed the menu, while Namjoon's younger sister immediately waved the moment she saw you.
"You've lost weight."
His mother immediately took both of your hands.
"You've been working too much, haven't you?"
You could only offer an awkward smile.
"Yes, Eommoni."
"Then make sure you eat a lot tonight."
She didn't seem to know anything at all.
Or maybe...
She had simply never been told.
Namjoon pulled out the chair beside him before you even had the chance to choose your own seat.
"Sit here."
You hesitated for a moment. But Eomma's gentle gaze eventually made you give in.
Throughout dinner, Namjoon acted exactly as he always had. When the waiter placed down a bowl of soup that was still too hot, he instinctively slid it farther away from you.
"Careful."
A few moments later, he gently tucked the loose strands of hair that kept falling across your face behind your ear.
"Here."
The movement was so subtle that only the two of you noticed.
When you accidentally choked because you drank too quickly, his hand gently rubbed your back.
"Slow down."
Everything felt so natural. So familiar. As though the word "breakup" had never been spoken a month ago. Every now and then, his mother smiled as she watched the two of you.
"I'm so happy you both could make it."
You lowered your gaze.
Your chest felt heavier and heavier. Not because of Namjoon, but because the woman sitting in front of you looked genuinely happy. And you simply couldn't bring yourself to be the one who ruined that smile tonight.
After dinner ended and Namjoon's family headed home first, the two of you drove back toward your apartment.
Once again, the car was filled with silence.
The lights of Seoul reflected one after another across the window as a light drizzle began to dampen the streets. Namjoon drove with one hand while the other occasionally tapped softly against the steering wheel in rhythm with the song quietly playing on the radio. Neither of you spoke until the car came to a stop in front of your apartment building.
You unfastened your seatbelt first.
Before getting out, you finally gathered the courage.
"Joon."
"Hm?"
"This..."
You kept your eyes fixed straight ahead.
"...can't happen again."
Namjoon didn't answer immediately.
"We already broke up."
Your voice came out much softer than before.
"I only came tonight because of your mom."
"Not because we're back together."
Silence.
A few seconds passed before Namjoon turned off the engine completely.
He turned his body toward you. His gaze was exactly the same as it had been the night before. Calm, warm, and somehow so unwavering that it was impossible to shake.
"That's fine."
You frowned.
"That's fine?"
"However long you need."
He spoke quietly.
"Another month."
"Two months."
"A year."
"I'll wait."
You closed your eyes for a moment.
"Namjoon..."
"I'll wait until you're no longer exhausted."
"I'll wait until your anger fades."
"I'll wait until your disappointment slowly disappears."
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"Not because I'm stubborn."
"Then why?"
"Because I never planned a life without you."
Those words made it impossible for you to turn and look at him.
"You can keep saying we're broken up."
He continued, his voice so quiet.
"You can say it a hundred times."
"You can say it every single day."
"But my answer will always be the same."
He looked at you without the slightest hesitation.
"In my dictionary..."
"...we're not broken up."
"And we never will be."
For some reason, for the first time since all of this began, it no longer felt like you were arguing with someone. It felt more like standing before a wall that couldn't be broken—not because it was hard, but because it had been built from a conviction far too deep to be shaken. Namjoon wasn't trying to force you to love him again. In his mind, that love had never truly left. All he saw was someone who had become exhausted and chosen to step away just to catch her breath. And as long as your breath found its way back to him someday, he believed there wasn't a single reason to say goodbye.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The days after dinner with Namjoon's family fell into almost the same pattern.
Every morning, there was always a message from him. Sometimes it was just a good morning text, sometimes a photo of the sky from whichever city he happened to be in, sometimes simply a reminder not to forget breakfast. Never long. Never demanding. And you, with a stubbornness that was beginning to exhaust even yourself, always replied with the bare minimum. One word. Two words. Sometimes just a sticker. Sometimes nothing more than a reaction to his message. Yet strangely enough, Namjoon never complained even once.
As though no matter how brief your reply was, he still considered it a small victory.
Because at least...
You were still replying.
That afternoon, after a meeting that seemed never-ending, you came home completely drained. Your shoulders ached from carrying your laptop all day, your mind was filled with work revisions, and all you wanted was to take a shower and go to bed early. The elevator finally stopped on your floor. You slowly walked toward your apartment door, searching for your keys inside your bag while letting out a long sigh.
But your steps came to an immediate halt. A pair of shoes you knew far too well had already been neatly placed in front of your door.
You closed your eyes.
"...Oh my God."
Only then did you remember. You had never changed the PIN to your apartment's smart lock. Not because you meant to.
You just...
Hadn't gotten around to it. Or maybe...
You hadn't truly had the heart to.
The moment the door opened, the aroma of warm food immediately filled your senses. The scent of seaweed soup mixed with roasted chicken and freshly steamed rice spread throughout the living room. The apartment lights glowed warmly, the television played nothing but soft instrumental music at low volume, and on the dining table sat two neatly arranged plates with cutlery already set.
Namjoon stepped out of the kitchen, still wearing the gray apron he used to wear whenever he cooked in your apartment.
"Oh."
He smiled faintly.
"You're home."
You stood there frozen for several seconds.
Then all you could do was let out another long sigh.
"Joon..."
"I bought dinner."
"Yeah, I can see that."
"You probably haven't eaten."
"I could've ordered something myself."
"I know."
It was always the same answer.
Always calm. Always leaving you with no reason left to stay angry.
Without thinking, he took your work bag from your shoulder and hung it by the door, just as he had always done before. There was nothing excessive about his movements. No attempt to touch you more than necessary. He didn't even try to hug you. All he did was help, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Go take a shower first."
"I'll heat up the food."
You stared at him for a few seconds.
"Why..."
Namjoon looked back at you.
"Hm?"
"Why are you still like this?"
He only gave a small shrug.
"Because I miss coming home."
The sentence was simple. Yet somehow, it made your chest tighten all over again.
After changing into more comfortable clothes, the two of you ate together in an atmosphere far calmer than it had been over the past few days. Every now and then, Namjoon told you stories about the last city he had visited on tour, about a museum he had managed to visit during a two-hour break, about the book he had been reading on the plane. He never forced you to join the conversation. Even when all you did was nod or answer briefly, he continued talking in the same warm tone.
After dinner, you automatically carried the dishes into the kitchen.
The moment you turned on the faucet, Namjoon was already standing beside you. Without being asked. Without saying a word.
He picked up a dry towel and began drying the dishes one by one, just like the routine the two of you had shared for years.
You washed. He dried.
You rinsed. He put everything away.
Nothing had changed. And somehow, that only made you even more confused.
You let out another sigh. Then another. And another.
Namjoon heard every single one of them. Of course he did. But he didn't say a word.
He simply continued what he was doing, occasionally glancing at you from the corner of his eye. He looked far more exhausted than usual. The lack of sleep was no longer something he could hide, and even his shoulders seemed heavier than before. The tour wasn't over yet. His schedule was still packed. His body was clearly begging for rest.
Yet every time he had even a little free time...
He chose to come here.
To the apartment that, in your mind, was no longer his home.
Once the kitchen was clean again, the two of you moved into the living room. Rain fell softly beyond the window. You sat at one end of the sofa. Namjoon sat not too close, giving you space. Just as he had been doing lately.
"I'm tired."
You finally broke the silence.
"I know."
"It's not just about your schedule."
Namjoon nodded.
"I know."
"It's not just about waiting."
He nodded again.
"I know."
"You always know."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Yeah."
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
You looked at him in annoyance.
"You're not even going to defend yourself?"
Namjoon slowly shook his head.
"What's the point?"
"Because I'm the one who brought you to this point."
You lowered your gaze.
"And then?"
"Then I listen."
"And after that?"
"And after that..."
He paused for a moment.
"...I stay right here."
Your eyes slowly met his.
"I'm not asking you to forgive me right away."
"I'm not asking for everything to go back to normal tomorrow."
"But I'm not going to leave you alone to go through this."
Silence settled between the two of you once again. Only the sound of rain could be heard outside.
You didn't even realize when your eyes had started to fill with tears. Maybe because you were exhausted from holding up the walls you had built yourself. Maybe because the man sitting in front of you still chose to stay, even when every reply you gave him consisted of nothing more than one or two words. You knew you weren't easy to deal with, yet he had never once used that as an excuse to answer your pain with anger.
Namjoon watched you for a few moments.
Then he slowly raised one hand.
"May I?"
You didn't answer.
He gently tucked a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, moving so carefully as though he was afraid of pushing you even farther away. His fingertips lingered against your cheek for a few seconds before slowly falling away. There was no force in his touch. Only the gentleness that had always been both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness whenever it came to you.
"You're beautiful."
He whispered.
"Even when you're angry."
You looked at him for a long time.
Then, without realizing it, the distance between you slowly disappeared. Namjoon didn't move first. He let you decide.
When your breaths were already mingling together, you finally closed the remaining distance yourself. The first kiss was slow, filled with the uncertainty that had consumed both of your hearts over the past month. There were no words, only longing that was quietly finding its way home. Namjoon kissed you back with careful restraint, as though he feared that one move too sudden would make you pull away again.
When the two of you finally wrapped each other in an embrace, every emotion you had been holding back slowly began to melt away. There were no more arguments that night. There were only two people who were equally exhausted, equally homesick, and who had quietly realized that home was still something they found in each other. The night continued in warm silence, and when the two of you finally lay down in bed, Namjoon simply pulled you into his arms like he always used to, letting your head rest comfortably against his chest.
The room fell quiet. Only the soft rhythm of Namjoon's heartbeat echoed in your ears.
His strong arms wrapped securely around you, firm yet gentle, as though he wanted to make sure you knew he was there without having to say it over and over again. Every now and then, his fingers slowly stroked your back with the same familiar rhythm that had always managed to calm you whenever your thoughts became too overwhelming.
After several minutes, Namjoon finally spoke.
"If you're still angry..."
He gently kissed the top of your head.
"...then stay angry."
You didn't answer.
"I can wait."
Silence.
"A week."
"A month."
"Even longer than that."
His arms tightened around you just a little more.
"I'll go through it."
"I'm not going anywhere."
He took a slow breath before continuing in a voice barely above a whisper.
"I only want one thing."
"What?"
You finally asked softly. Namjoon smiled faintly.
"If one day you get tired again..."
"...don't leave."
"Just come home."
Because to him, a broken heart could still be mended together. The one thing he could never accept was letting the person he loved most continue believing she had to carry all of that exhaustion alone.
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That morning began like the few mornings before it.
You woke up first, while Namjoon was still asleep beside you with one arm unconsciously wrapped around your waist. The bedroom curtains weren't fully open yet. The morning sunlight had only just begun slipping through the narrow gap between them, filling the room with a warm golden glow. For a moment, everything felt like it used to. As though the past month had never happened, as though neither of you had ever hurt the other, and as though waking up beside each other was still a simple part of your everyday life.
But the moment your memories settled back into place, your chest tightened again. The two of you hadn't truly resolved anything.
Last night there wasn't an answer.
Last night was only a pause.
Carefully, you lifted Namjoon's arm off your waist so you wouldn't wake him. The moment your feet touched the floor, his husky voice came from behind you.
"Where are you going?"
You stopped.
"The kitchen."
"Hm."
There was no objection. No request for you to come back to bed. Just a quiet murmur before he closed his eyes again. An hour later, the aroma of coffee filled the apartment.
Namjoon had already showered and changed. A freshly ironed white shirt fit neatly around his frame, while his hair, still slightly damp, made him look younger than usual. Two cups of coffee and a few slices of toast he'd thrown together sat on the dining table. The sight felt so familiar that you almost forgot only a few days ago you had been insisting your relationship was over.
"I have to go."
He said while checking his watch.
"I've got practice."
You gave a small nod.
"Okay."
Your reply was still short. Still flat. Still keeping your distance. Namjoon only smiled faintly.
He finished his coffee, washed his own cup, then picked up the bag he'd left beside the sofa the night before. Before leaving, just as he had done over the past few days, he turned to look at you for a moment.
"I'll text you later."
"Okay."
There were no extra words. No smile. No lingering gaze.
The apartment door finally closed softly. And for the first time since he had returned from tour… You noticed his shoulders sink ever so slightly as he walked toward the elevator. The rest of the day went as usual. Namjoon sent you a photo from the practice room.
You replied, "Good luck."
He sent you a photo of his lunch.
You replied, "Okay."
He asked if you'd eaten.
"I have."
That was it. Nothing more.
That night, after his entire schedule was over, Namjoon sat alone inside the van taking him back home. His manager had already fallen asleep in the front seat. The streets of Seoul shimmered with lights reflecting across the windows, while his phone still displayed your chat.
Your last reply.
"I have."
One word. He reread it nearly ten times. Then he locked his screen. A few minutes later, he unlocked it again. Read it again. Not because he didn't understand the message. But because he was trying to convince himself that one word was still better than no reply at all.
The following afternoon, his schedule ended earlier than expected. Without giving it a second thought, he headed back to your apartment. This time, he wasn't carrying food. He wasn't carrying flowers. He wasn't carrying anything except a backpack that looked much heavier than usual.
You opened the door after hearing the PIN.
The moment you saw him standing there, you let out a quiet sigh.
"Come in."
You said shortly. Namjoon smiled faintly.
"Thank you."
There wasn't much conversation that afternoon. You worked on your laptop at the dining table. Namjoon sat on the sofa reading a book.
Every now and then, he made you tea. Every now and then, he asked if the air conditioner was too cold. Every now and then, he quietly placed snacks beside you without interrupting your work.
The apartment remained quiet. But little by little, that silence began to feel heavy.
As the night grew later, you finally closed your laptop. The moment you looked up, you truly noticed Namjoon's face.
His eyes were red. Not because he had been crying. Because he hadn't been sleeping.
The exhaustion on his face was far more obvious than it had been a few days ago. His complexion looked slightly pale, and several times he rubbed the back of his neck as though his muscles had been overworked for far too long. For the first time, you realized that you had been so busy holding on to your anger that you'd forgotten to notice the condition of the person sitting in front of you.
"Tired?"
You asked softly.
Namjoon nodded.
"Yeah."
"You could go home."
"Yeah."
"Then why are you still here?"
He stayed quiet for a few seconds. His gaze fell to the floor. Then he smiled faintly.
"I am home."
That answer left you speechless.
Namjoon slowly rubbed his face.
"I know you're still angry."
"Yeah."
"I know you're still disappointed."
"Yeah."
"I also know..."
He paused for a moment, as though choosing the right words.
"...that lately, I'm starting to get tired too."
You immediately lifted your head. That was the first time. The very first time since all of this began, Namjoon admitted he was tired.
Not tired because of the tour. Not tired because of work. But… Because of everything.
"I'm tired of waking up every morning thinking..."
He let out a quiet laugh.
"...how many words you'll reply with today."
You fell silent.
"I'm tired of finishing a concert..."
"...then automatically opening our chat."
"Even though I already know your answer will probably just be 'yeah' or 'okay.'"
He didn't sound angry. That was exactly what made your chest hurt even more.
"I'm tired of sitting on an eight-hour flight..."
"...while the only thing on my mind is getting here as quickly as possible."
"Because to me..."
He looked at you.
"...my home is here."
Your eyes began to fill with tears.
"But every time I get here..."
His smile faded just a little.
"...I have to pretend I'm not sad when you're still pushing me away."
Silence.
The living room was completely quiet. Namjoon wasn't crying. He wasn't raising his voice. He wasn't blaming you. He simply sat there in front of you, his shoulders looking heavier than you had ever seen before.
"I don't regret waiting."
He said quietly.
"I'll keep waiting."
"That won't change."
"But..."
He let out a long breath.
"...can I..."
His sentence hung in the air for several seconds.
"...at least get a sign from you once in a while that I'm still allowed to hope?"
The tears you'd been holding back finally fell.
One drop. Then another.
Namjoon didn't move from where he was. He didn't immediately pull you into his arms.
He simply sat there quietly, allowing you to feel every emotion the two of you had been keeping buried for so long. For the first time, you realized that his patience didn't mean he wasn't hurting. He had simply chosen to carry everything by himself so you wouldn't feel guilty. Behind all of his calmness was someone who also came home exhausted every single night—and the only place he had ever wanted to come home to was you.
As your tears continued falling harder, Namjoon finally rose slowly to his feet. He walked over and stopped right in front of you before hesitantly lifting one hand.
"Can I hug you?"
The question was so simple. So careful. It wasn't the question of someone trying to force their way in.
It was the question of someone still asking for permission to come home to the place he had always considered his home.
This time… For the first time after spending an entire month holding up those walls… You gave a small nod.
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The hug lasted much longer than either of you realized.
Namjoon didn't say a word. His arms simply stayed wrapped warmly around you while his hand slowly stroked your back in an unhurried rhythm, gentle enough that your sobs gradually faded on their own. He never tried to stop your tears. He simply let you sit on his lap and cry until you had nothing left to hold in, just as he had always done whenever you were overwhelmed by your emotions.
Several minutes later, you were the first to pull away.
Your eyes were still swollen. The tip of your nose had turned red. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him for very long.
"I..."
Your voice was barely audible.
"...I'm sorry."
Namjoon only tilted his head slightly.
"Hm?"
"I was mean."
You let out a small laugh between the sniffles that hadn't completely disappeared.
"Really mean."
He remained silent, letting you finish everything you wanted to say.
"I know you're tired."
"You travel all over the world."
"Your schedule never stops."
"You must barely get any sleep."
Your tears began falling again.
"And every time you came home..."
You bit your lower lip.
"...all you got was me being cold to you."
Silence.
"I kept replying with short texts."
"I ignored you."
"I kept saying we were broken up."
Your voice grew quieter.
"Even though..."
You wiped your own cheek.
"...I know you didn't deserve to be treated like that."
Namjoon still didn't interrupt.
His gaze remained gentle. Still full of patience. As though he had come that night with the sole purpose of listening to you.
"I'm sorry..."
The words finally came out with a trembling breath.
"I'm really sorry."
For several seconds, the room fell silent again.
You waited for his response. Maybe advice. Maybe something wise. Or maybe... he would finally admit that you'd gone too far. But instead, Namjoon let out a quiet sigh before leaning back against the sofa.
"Okay."
You blinked.
"...Okay?"
"Yeah."
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
You immediately frowned.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
You stared at him in disbelief.
"Joon."
"Hm?"
"Why aren't you mad?"
Namjoon thought for a few seconds.
"Because..."
He genuinely looked as though he was considering his answer carefully.
"...I'm calculating."
"Calculating what?"
"A debt."
You became even more confused.
"A debt?"
"Yeah."
Namjoon nodded firmly.
"You owe me."
Your eyebrows shot up.
"Huh?"
"Yeah."
"Owe you what?"
Namjoon put on an overly serious expression that immediately made you suspicious.
"One month."
"Yeah?"
"One whole month."
"Yeah."
"You kept sending short replies."
"..."
"Almost all of them."
"..."
"There's a penalty for that."
You stared at him for a few seconds.
Then, without realizing it, you let out a quiet laugh.
"A penalty?"
"Yeah."
"Says who?"
"Me."
"How convenient."
"Yeah."
He nodded without feeling even the slightest bit guilty.
You could only shake your head.
"So what's the penalty?"
Namjoon leaned forward slightly. His expression was still far too serious for someone saying something so ridiculous.
"One short reply..."
He held up one finger.
"...equals one kiss."
Your eyes widened immediately.
"What?"
"The rules are simple."
He started counting on his fingers.
"'Yeah.'"
"One."
"'Okay.'"
"Two."
"'Hm.'"
"Three."
"'Already.'"
"Four."
You lightly smacked his arm.
"Hey!"
Namjoon simply chuckled.
"That's only the first day."
"Kim Namjoon!"
"I haven't even counted the stickers yet."
You tried to hold back your laughter as you hit his shoulder again.
"You're ridiculous."
"I'm serious."
"You're not."
"I am."
"There's no way you actually counted."
"I did."
"No way."
Namjoon picked up his phone. Then he opened your chat. Scrolled. Scrolled again. Then showed you the screen.
"Look."
In his notes app, there really was a list.
Short Reply Project
Yeah
Okay
Hm
Later
Already
Sure
Total: 47
Your eyes widened.
"...Joon."
"Hm?"
"You actually counted?"
"Yeah."
"You..."
You covered your face while laughing. "...you're insane."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I know."
Your laughter finally filled the living room for the first time in weeks.
Namjoon watched you as you finally laughed again. His expression immediately softened.
"That..."
He said quietly. "...is much better."
"What is?"
"Your laugh."
"I like that much more."
Your laughter slowly faded. The heaviness that had been sitting in your chest finally began to feel a little lighter.
"So..."
You glanced at the absurd list on his phone. "...forty-seven kisses?"
"Yeah."
"Not happening."
"You can pay in installments."
You immediately slapped your forehead.
"Oh my God."
"Zero percent interest."
"Kim Namjoon..."
"You don't even need a down payment."
You couldn't hold back your laughter anymore.
"Who taught you to say things like that?"
"Yoo—"
He immediately cut himself off. "...never mind."
You narrowed your eyes.
"Yoongi, wasn't it?"
Namjoon pretended to cough.
"I didn't say anything."
You laughed even harder. The awkwardness that had filled the apartment for so long finally shattered completely.
Watching you laugh like that, Namjoon slowly shifted a little closer. Not too close. Just enough for your knees to almost touch.
"So..."
He opened the note again. "First installment?"
You immediately shook your head.
"No."
"Half?"
"No."
"A discount?"
"No."
"Today's special promotion."
"Kim Namjoon."
"Hm?"
"You're so annoying."
"I know."
"Very."
"Yeah."
"But..."
You tried to hide the smile that kept finding its way onto your face.
"...thank you."
"For what?"
"For being patient."
Namjoon looked at you for a long moment. His smile gradually became softer.
"Always."
That single word made the room fall silent once again. Without thinking too much, you slowly reached out and gently grabbed the collar of his T-shirt.
Namjoon froze.
"...Huh?"
"Stay still."
You said softly.
"Huh?"
You gently pulled him a little closer.
"I'm making a payment."
Namjoon's eyes immediately widened.
"You're serious?"
"Hm."
"This is the first installment?"
"Yeah."
His smile instantly spread across his face like a little kid who had just been handed a birthday present.
"Can I smile first?"
You couldn't help but laugh.
"Why?"
"Because I honestly didn't expect such a cooperative debtor."
"Joon!"
"Okay, okay."
He raised both hands in surrender, though the grin on his face was impossible to hide.
You slowly shook your head at his antics. Then, your face growing warmer by the second, you leaned in and gave him a brief kiss. A very brief one. Only a few seconds.
But just as you were about to pull away, Namjoon whispered with a triumphant smile.
"So..."
"Hm?"
"That means..."
"...your remaining debt is only forty-six kisses."
You stared at him for a few seconds. Then grabbed one of the sofa cushions and lightly smacked his shoulder.
"You!"
Namjoon's laughter echoed throughout the entire apartment. And for the first time after a month filled with nothing but pain, the apartment finally sounded like home again—a place where tears were slowly replaced by laughter, and where two people who loved each other were finally beginning to find their way back home, one small step at a time.
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The night grew later, yet neither of you had any intention of leaving the sofa.
The living room lights had been deliberately dimmed, leaving only the warm glow of the standing lamp in the corner of the room. The rain outside had completely stopped, making the apartment feel even more peaceful. You were still sitting comfortably on Namjoon's lap while he absentmindedly played with the sleeve of your sweater, a small habit that always appeared whenever his mind finally began to settle.
"Still don't want to get down?"
Namjoon asked with a smile. You pretended to think.
"Hm..."
"I think I'm pretty comfortable."
"Good."
"Then you don't have to get down."
You immediately let out a small laugh.
"How convenient."
"Yeah."
"This is my favorite seat."
He gently patted his own thigh.
"Seat?"
"Reserved just for you."
You shook your head, amused. "You're unbelievable."
Namjoon chuckled softly. His laughter sounded much freer than it had over the past few days, as though the weight that had been resting on his shoulders was finally beginning to lift little by little. Seeing you laugh like this again turned out to be far more effective than eight hours of sleep or a week-long vacation. He didn't even realize that his smile hadn't truly disappeared once since then.
"Can I be selfish?" He suddenly asked.
"Why are you asking first?"
"Because I'm trying to be the perfect boyfriend now."
You raised an eyebrow.
"Since when?"
"Since I almost lost you."
That answer slowly softened your smile.
Namjoon gently brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers.
"I just want this for a little while."
"Like what?"
"Being close."
"That's all?"
"Yeah."
"If possible..."
He hugged you a little tighter.
"...for a long time."
You didn't answer.
Instead, you slowly rested your head against his shoulder. You could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat right beside your ear. It felt strange—so calming, so familiar—that it was hard to believe the two of you had really spent an entire month without being this close.
Namjoon gently kissed the top of your head.
Then your temple.
Then your cheek.
Every kiss was slow, filled with patience, as though he was trying to make up for the time the two of you had lost. When his face moved closer toward the side of your neck to place another light kiss there, you instinctively flinched.
"Hey!"
Namjoon immediately stopped.
"Hm?"
You giggled as you leaned away slightly.
"Wait..."
"What?"
You gently rubbed the side of your neck.
"That tickles."
"Tickles?"
"Yeah."
Namjoon looked genuinely confused.
"I was being gentle."
"It's not that."
You looked at his face more closely.
Only now did you really notice the line of his jaw.
A faint shadow of facial hair had begun growing around his chin and jawline. It wasn't messy, but it was enough for you to feel it brushing against your skin just now. His face also looked a little duller than usual, as though the skincare routine he used to do every night before bed had truly been forgotten.
You let out a small laugh.
"Joon..."
"Hm?"
"You haven't shaved, have you?"
Namjoon automatically touched his own chin.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Why 'yeah'?"
He smiled sheepishly.
"I haven't had the time."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"And your skincare too?"
"Hm..."
He scratched the back of his neck.
"...sometimes I fall asleep."
You immediately shook your head.
"No wonder."
"What?"
"You look exhausted."
Namjoon laughed quietly.
"I am exhausted."
You gently ran your fingertips along his jaw.
"You always used to look so neat."
"Yeah."
"And now?"
Namjoon shrugged.
"I haven't really had any motivation."
"Why?"
He looked at you for a few seconds. Then answered with a completely serious expression.
"Besides..."
"...there wasn't anyone I wanted to kiss."
You immediately fell silent.
A few seconds later, your cheeks slowly began to warm.
"Joon..."
"What?"
"Don't say things like that."
"But it's true."
He let out a quiet laugh.
"What's the point of shaving..."
"...when the person who makes me want to look nice again was mad at me?"
You covered your face. "Oh my God..."
"What?"
"You're so annoying when you're being romantic."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I know."
You shook your head, laughing quietly. His hand found yours again, gently wrapping around it.
"I promise." You suddenly said.
Namjoon tilted his head. "Promise what?"
"Tomorrow."
"Hm?"
"We're shaving."
"We?"
"Yeah."
"You."
"And I'll supervise."
Namjoon's eyes immediately lit up.
"So..."
A mischievous grin spread across his face.
"...does that mean I can come over again tomorrow?"
You pretended to let out a long sigh.
"Hm..."
"We'll see."
"Huh."
"If you do your skincare."
"Okay."
"Get enough sleep."
"Okay."
"And don't skip your meals."
"Okay."
"Can you do that?"
Namjoon nodded repeatedly like a little kid.
"I can."
"As long as..."
"As long as what?"
He gently rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.
"...after that, I get to lie down with you again."
You looked at his face, so sincere and so incredibly endearing at the same time. Behind all the packed schedules, concerts, interviews, and endless traveling, the simplest happiness he wanted was nothing more than this—sitting on the sofa in your apartment, joking about the stubble growing along his jaw, and spending the night together without having to say goodbye too soon.
In the end, you gave a small nod.
"Deal."
His smile immediately widened.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"But..."
You gently pinched his cheek.
"...tomorrow you have to be handsome again."
Namjoon laughed freely before, without thinking, resting his forehead against yours.
"If you're the one telling me to..."
He whispered softly.
"...I'll gladly become the most diligent guy in the world when it comes to shaving."
You giggled as you shook your head, then without realizing it rested your head against his shoulder once more. That night was filled with little conversations that didn't really matter, laughter that came effortlessly, and a silence that finally felt comfortable again—just like a home that had once been lost, then slowly found once more together.
Author Notes: These are actually drabble from my ongoing series, so they’re still connected to the main storyline I’ve been working on. You can check out the full series (Between Collisions). If you liked this story, please leave a comment, I’d love to read your thoughts 🥰💬. Your thoughts honestly mean a lot and keep me motivated to continue writing. And feel free to reblog/share so more people can enjoy it too 🌸✨
So, he hovers just outside of it with a sheepish grin. He just wanted to help, but there had been too many "Namjoonies," as you've started calling them, that resulted in him being demoted to just a taste-tester.
He's allowed to sit at the kitchen island, watching you as you twirl around the kitchen with ease, and that's all.
He isn't even trusted to cut fruit, but he makes up for it by being the best dishwasher. You cook, he cleans, and when dinner is served, he drags your chair to be right next to his. Your legs are either over his lap, or you're practically sitting on his lap as he holds you close, praising you for a good meal.
But no matter the amount of compliments he gives, or the back rubs he places as you two enjoy your meal, change the fact that he's still banned from the kitchen, and you tell him just as much before giving him dessert - slow kisses that make both your minds a little fuzzy.
bf! Namjoon reads to you. He sits on the floor, a pillow underneath him, with his back against the couch. His broad shoulders are snug between your thighs as your fingers card through his hair, and he gives your inner knee a little kiss before he opens the latest book he's reading.
There is no sound in the room other than his soft voice as he reads, and as time goes on, he leans his head back, resting his arms over your legs, and propping the book higher as you massage his scalp.
His eyes become hooded, his eyebrows furrowing because he almost reads the same sentence three times as you draw mindless swirls in his hair.
Eventually, he'll give up. The book is set aside as he melts under your hands. His smile is dazed and full of love as his arms hang over your legs. His fingers twitch; he's balancing between falling asleep and staying awake as he brushes his fingertips along your calf with happy hums that make you giggle. What a lover boy.
bf! Namjoon turns his brain off when he's around you. The whole world looks at him, expects a certain version of him, and relies on him so heavily, but it takes a toll. He's tired of being the voice of reason; it's tough, so when he's with you, he feels like he can finally relax and just be Namjoon, a man who does his best every day.
And you're more than happy to be that person for him.
"C'mon," you coax, grabbing Namjoon's wrist with a little tug. You don't say where you're going or what you'll be doing, but Namjoon nods dumbly, his body relaxed as he lets you lead him around. His eyes are soft, focused solely on you as you never let go of his wrist. You guide him, giving him a cute grin over your shoulder, and his shoulders immediately relax, his smile growing more lovesick as you blab his ear off - allowing him to just be quiet and listen.
bf! Namjoon gets shy when you flirt back with him. Life has taught him to know how attractive he is. He's tall, big, and lethal with the dimple smile he flashes, so it's no surprise that men and women flock to him. He's everything.
And it doesn't help that he's always kind, harmlessly charming many people with just a few words, but you're the only exception. The moment your eyes gleam, giving him a hooded look as you squeeze his bicep, standing so close he just might start sweating - this man is a goner.
All of his thoughts blank, his brain short-circuiting as he blinks at you dumbly. "Uh-" He shuts his mouth before he says something stupid like "Wow, please date me." And your laughter makes his ears burn red with a blush.
You two have been dating for three years, and he doesn't think he'll ever recover.
☾ note: Damn, I think this might be the longest soulmate au I've ever made - but he is my first ult and your girl had a LOT she needed to be included. As always, please like, reblog, comment and follow if you like the story, and the taglist for this is open so just make a comment if you want me to add you to it
When Namjoon turned 13 nothing showed up, nothing at all. There were no marks on his body, nor were there any thoughts in his head or pain in his body. And it wasn’t that he didn’t care, but his love had always been music, and the passion he had for that was more than enough to live a fulfilled life.
So instead of seeing his life as if he was missing out, he instead shrugged and moved on.
When he joined BigHit, when he met the boys and started living with them he realized just how much most of their lives revolved around their other halves and their marks, and for the first time he felt a ping of jealousy in his chest.
The initial conversation they had about it explained both quirks and physical attributes that they all had. Jin was looking in every reflective surface to potentially catch a glimpse of his other half, Jimin was a mess once a month from pain, and Yoongi? The scar over his one eye was suddenly less gory.
And when he told them that he didn’t have one, all they had done was stare at him with pity. As if he was missing out on this incredible thing. He had tried to explain it was a waste of time to miss something you had never had, and even though he knew he was right, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was missing out on something special.
He didn’t mean to, but as time went on, he started to crave it, the promise of internal love, the promise of a future with someone, crave the one thing that he would never have.
You had heard the stories from your parents and the adults around you, and the excitement up to your thirteenth birthday was so high that everyone feared it would not live up to your expectations.
But when nothing came, and hadn’t showed up almost a year later, you had cursed the fates for not deeming you worthy of the one thing you had always dreamed about.
You had mourned him, mourned the dreams and all that could’ve been, and then slowly moved on. But those that were closest to you could see it, there was a spark in your eyes that was gone, a lightness in your steps that had suddenly become heavy.
Instead of dwelling on it too much, you dived head first into your work, your passion and those platonic soulmates you found along the way.
And as they smiled and celebrated when they met their soulmates, you made sure to hide your tears of despair in the dark hours of the night.
It was a slow Monday morning, and you managed to drag yourself out of bed into the pouring rain to get to work, completely leaving your umbrella behind in your apartment. You didn’t mind the rain, somehow it seemed to make everything slow.
There was a beauty to it, how the droplets of water hit the pavement and pooled together, how they left the greenery in this otherwise grey city more vibrant than it had been just a few hours earlier.
You turned your head towards the sky, hoping that it would wash away your sorrows, the loneliness, the depression that had taken root in your heart.
Maybe all you needed was a forever rain.
Namjoon was laying in his bed, slowly trying to rewind his mind and body after yet another tourstop, another city, another performance.
There was this feeling in his chest, one of anxiety he had a difficult time placing, it felt almost foreign, like it wasn’t his.
He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, something he had learned helped whenever he needed a bit of grounding, and then he felt a drop of water hitting his face.
His eyes shot open as he stared up at the ceiling. It fell down his face as a single tear, and when he tried to whisk it away, there was nothing there.
He slowly sat up in his bed, and then a layer, a silk sheet of emotions, wrapped around his entire body. The feeling was familiar, like something he had always carried around with him, only this time it felt as if it had been magnified.
The feelings crept in, the sadness and anxiety, the depression and hopelessness, and they were darker than anything he himself had experienced in a very long time.
It was devastating the feeling of isolation he had inside of him, the feeling of not belonging to anyone.
There was no doubt, this had to be you, this had to be his soulmate. So he cried silently over the fact that he had left you, that he had given up and just accepted life without you. Had you been able to feel it? His indifference towards you?
Or had you just assumed, like he had, that those lingering feelings that came out of the blue were just anxiety or random bursts of happiness or sadness?
Like always he dealt with his emotions by writing it all down, and as the sun started to rise outside of his window the songs he had composed were finished.
The first songs he had written weren't songs of love and happiness, but an acknowledgement of the pain he had caused you, that he saw the pain there, that he felt it, and that he from this moment on would help you carry it.
The week following your rainy Monday was different, very different. It was filled with hope, excitement and nerves. It was weird because there was not anything exciting going on in your life, everything was exactly like it had always been.
Until one afternoon; you had stretched your body, warmed your joints and were now on pointe in front of the mirror as you ran through your routine in your head.
People were talking, exchanging words of encouragement or just straight out gossiping about something, and then a slow piano started playing somewhere in the room, accompanied by the sound of rain, and your entire world stopped.
You felt chills running through your body as every hair stood up. A woman ran towards the sound and quickly turned it off, you made a mental note of asking her what the song was when the day was over.
“Any luck yet?” Yoongi popped his head into Namjoon’s room. He had very impromptu dropped a mixtape in the middle of touring, surprising everyone, his members especially.
Then he had told them all that he in fact had a mark, he just hadn’t been aware of it which had led to loud cheers and hugs, even a few happy tears from Jimin. After that they had made sure to check in on him every now and then.
He shook his head with a somewhat sad smile. “No, not yet. So I guess it’s safe to say that she’s not army”
His older brother nodded with tight lips. “I’m sure she’ll find it”
The leader only shrugged. “I doubt it. At the end of the day it was a long shot”
Namjoon stood up and grabbed his phone from the table, flipping it open and then zoning out completely.
“What if she feels me, what if she has just chosen to ignore it, ignore me, as revenge for not feeling her all these years?”
Yoongi slowly walked into the room. “You’ve wanted this for longer than you’ve dared to admit, haven't you?” He laid a hand on his leader's shoulder, it was a touch of both support and comfort.
All he got in return was a small nod.
“I’ve met very few people in my life that have been as in touch with their emotions as you. You’ve always known how to express yourself, known how to listen to what you’ve felt and rationalized those feelings, hell you’ve even acted on them when that was what was needed. I’m sure that she is similar to that, for some reason your mark just hasn't really shown up before now. That has nothing to do with you, and I’m sure as soon as she feels it, she will be as grateful as you are”
He didn’t say it often but Namjoon had always valued the way Yoongi always knew exactly what to say, at the exact time that the people around him needed it the most.
“Thank you hyung”
All he got was a smile return, and he quickly followed the scarred rapper out of the room to join him and his members for dinner.
You had gotten the song name, and were now seated in your apartment alone with your hand hovering over the play button.
“Why am I nervous? It’s just a song” you whispered to no one.
Your cat made a small noise in acknowledgement, and came to you, gently laying down in your lap as she started to purr, almost instantly calming your nervous system.
Then you pressed the screen and the sound of both raindroplets and the sound of a piano slowly played, and then a voice started rapping.
The voice was raspy but at the same time it felt like it had been dipped in honey. It spoke to your soul in a way no music previously had. One song led you to the next and before you knew it you had listened to the entire mixtape.
You opened your computer and found the translations, and then you cried. It was as if the artist had taken everything you had ever felt, and managed to put it not only into words, but notes as well, as if he could feel your emotions.
It was beauty and it was art, and you were hooked and absolutely ready to dive head first into this artist's discography.
The search for the translation had led to a deep dive into the artist and the second he appeared on your screen your heart stopped and for the first time in your life you felt the pull.
A pull that up until this moment had only ever been described to you. It was a need and a want all at the same time, as if you were both seen and saw him for exactly who you were.
“Kim Namjoon” you whispered, and as if it was all it would take, for you to speak his name you felt a silk sheet cover your body, and emotions that weren’t your own washed over you like a tidal wave.
For the first time in a very long time, the tears that now fell from your eyes were of happiness.
And as beautiful as this moment was, it left a lingering fear. Because how the hell do you get the attention of your soulmate, when he’s in the biggest band on the planet?
They had been walking around on stage, when he felt you. It was stronger than the days leading up to it, it was a feeling of pure joy, relief and love that rushed over him.
He had stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes as he flung his hands around his own body, as if you were there with him. Almost as if he just hugged himself and your emotions tightly enough you would be able to feel him.
Jimin was the first to notice that their leader was no longer with them, and when he looked his way, his eyes disappeared into well-known crescent moons.
He gave Hoseok a small nudge which led to a squeal and the attention of the remaining members was suddenly on the mess of a man that stood a few meters from them all.
Jin ran up to him first and wrapped his large hand around his friend's neck which forced his eyes open.
“I think she found the song”
It was all he was able to say before the relief and happiness washed over him, all the while his brothers celebrated around him.
He wellowed in it, soaked every drop of happiness into the very depth of his soul, and despite not quite knowing how this mark of yours worked, he did his best to send every bit of joy he felt, down through that bond that now bound the two of you together.
You had felt him instantly, which had only made your heart swell even more, and after a long night, a few bottles of wine while you updated your girls on the events that were your soulmate, you had all come up with a plan.
It still felt weird. Your soulmate. You still had to pinch yourself whenever you felt his emotions, scared that this was all a dream you just couldn’t wake up from.
The days had turned into weeks, and after having danced so hard your feet almost bled, you were finally ready, ready to leave a trail of breadcrumbs out for him to find.
You took one last look at yourself before you gave a nod to one of your best friends and as soon as the music started, you danced to the tunes written to you by your soulmate.
The following days your social media pages exploded, you had uploaded your dance covers on every app you could think of. Hopeful that one of them would make his way to him, and that he would feel the same pull towards you, as you had felt the second you had laid eyes on him.
Army had been your biggest support through all of this, they had complimented the way you had interpreted Namjoon’s mixtape by sharing it, posting reactions to them, and most importantly tagged every member more than a thousand times in every post.
Now all you could do was wait.
Hoseok had been casually scrolling through his Tiktok when he had gotten a dm from a dance friend of his with a link to a series of dance covers by a ballerina, to the song written by his younger brother.
He had watched them all, over and over again. Studied your movements almost as much as he has studied your expressions. Because there was a dancer who understood in her very soul what the songs were about.
The second he had felt confident enough, that this was in fact what he thought it was, he had slid into your dm’s with a message as simple, yet significant as: I think I know someone who would love to meet you.
It was the worst possible timing, they were all slowly getting used to the new city, the new stadium. They were all getting ready for the show that very night, but he didn’t really care much about any of it, because this was more important.
He found Namjoon sitting in the beauty room, scrolling on his phone as he ignored the chaos around him.
Namjoon had told them time and time again the past few days that you were feeling nervous as well as excited.
From what he didn’t know, all he knew was that whatever made you feel this way, would work out, and Hoseok felt a sense of pride having been the one to discover it.
He gave the wide shouldered man a gentle tap on his arm to get his attention, and as Namjoon looked his way he gently gave him the phone with a subtle little smile.
Namjoon himself had done his best to scour the internet from any sign of you, but so far he had come up empty handed.
The second he had gotten Hoseok’s phone in his hand, he had stopped breathing. Because right there on his screen was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
You were elegant, beautiful incarnate, with a subtle hint of both happiness and nervousness written on your face and in your movements, and there was no doubt that you were his.
He slowly stood from his chair as he scrolled through his entire mixtape, interpreted by your movements and very own form of art. He had never felt more special, nor more proud than in this exact moment.
When he finished he swallowed once.
“Where is she?” he said with a lump in his throat.
Hoseok shrugged once as he peeled his phone out of his brother's hand. “I don’t know yet, but I’ve written her a message”
Namjoon pulled out his own phone and with shaking hands tried to open the app to hopefully get in contact with you himself.
A small ping was heard from the sunshine man's phone, and as he turned it towards Namjoon, a small message there read: ‘I think you do’ followed by a phone number.
With shaking hands Namjoon dialed the number, and the other end of it picked up before it even managed to ring once.
He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. For 7 seconds, he just stood there as you heard you breath on the other end, as he felt how nervous and excited you were at the same time.
“Where are you?” He managed to say, swallowing once more to hopefully buy himself some time to think of something a little more original to say.
A subtle laugh was heard on the other end. “Hi Namjoon”
He smiled then, wider than he ever had. His dimples were on full display, as his cheeks started to hurt, all the while his heart swelled.
“Hi baby” he said as the people around him broke out in cheers. The cameras had been turned on and all turned his way, when that had happened he didn’t know, and he didn’t really care, all that mattered right here and now was you.
He felt the flutters of your heart all the while calmness and pure joy enveloped him in that now well known silk, that he knew as your emotions.
“Well to answer your question, I’m actually in the same place as you are… Not in the stadium of course, but the city”
He removed the phone a little from his face as he screamed silently. This was perfect.
“How soon can you get here?” He asked, he knew it was a long shot, but he had to try.
You laughed and he was certain he had died and gone to heaven right then and there. “I’m pretty sure your concert is sold out”
He chuckled. “That’s not what I asked” he said back in the most lovingly teasing voice he could.
He could feel his heartbeat pick up as he awaited your answer.
“I’m currently at work, but if you have the time, maybe we could figure out how to meet tomorrow?” you said, he could almost feel how you bit your lip in anticipation, oh and how he hated he wasn’t there to see it.
“Send me the address, I’m coming to get you”
It was a long shot, he knew that, but he didn’t really care.
All he heard was that musically laugh, one he knew would be the inspiration for songs to come.
“Don’t you have more important things to do right about now?”
He looked at his members, his brothers, and how they all gave him encouraging nods.
“No, you are the most important thing”
You were silent for a few seconds. “Okay, I’ll send you the address"
“Stay where you are, I’m on my way”
He didn’t want to hang up, if he could he would’ve climbed through his phone and out to you on the other side, unfortunately that wasn’t happening. So instead he hung up, pulled his members into a group hug with the promise that he would be back before the concert started.
Then he turned on his heel and sprinted towards the exit.
You were sitting in the lobby at your work, silently bouncing your leg as you felt your heart almost beat out of your chest. In record time you had managed to shower, and make yourself presentable.
It wasn’t that you had been a complete lost cause, but you wanted him to find you captivating and beautiful. Luckily the women around you had come to your aid, and now your eyes were fixated on the door.
Like you, Namjoon was completely unable to sit still in the car that was taking him to you. He was constantly fiddling with his clothes, his hair, his phone. All the while his eyes were fixated on the world that passed by around him.
When he finally arrived at his destination, he took a deep breath before opening the door. His mask was on, no need to give the entire world the possibility of watching this. It was something he wanted to be as private as possible.
He saw you before you had noticed him. The way you kept twisting your rings, the way your legs bounced, the nerves and excitement that roamed through you.
It made him lose his breath.
The second he felt that need, that bond almost snapping into place, the second he felt love run through himself, he saw your eyes snap up from your hands.
He walked through the doors as you slowly stood up from the chair.
The two of you were going slow, almost as if you were afraid that the other one would disappear if you walked too fast.
He towered over you as you stood in front of him. The photos you had seen of him didn’t do him justice. He was huge. Both in hide and in width.
He slowly peeled off his mask and revealed that dimpled smile of his, as his eyes almost disappeared.
You had no idea why, but that was all it took for you to throw yourself into his arms. You didn’t know if it was the sheer strength of him, or if he had been able to predict your move, but he didn’t even sway.
Instead he just flung his arms around you, gently picking you up off the ground as he buried his head in the crook of your neck.
When he finally set you down on the ground again, your hands came to caress his cheeks, gently poking those dimples with your thumbs, earning you a laugh.
“Hello there” you said, as you gently brushed away his tears, all the while you did your best to not let your own fall.
He leaned down and rested his forehead against yours, all the while his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
The two of you just stood there like that for a few minutes, before he finally pulled himself together, flung an arm around your shoulders, grabbed your bag and slowly walked out of the lobby with you by his side.
It was this quiet dominance, authority that made your entire spine shiver in anticipation of what else he would be able to do. Especially when the two of you were alone.
Namjoon laughed. “Baby, pull your head out of the gutter or I will devour you on the backseat of my car”
You pulled away from him and looked at him with shocked eyes. He just chuckled in response. “I can literally feel your emotions” he bend down and whispered, “that includes lust”
The blood rushed to your cheeks as you blushed, turning both your cheeks and ears as red as a tomato.
“Oh my god, I didn’t even think of that” you responded as you hid your face in his shirt.
“Trust me, I don’t mind it at all, but how about we wait with that part until we’re alone”
You felt it then, the need and lust he too felt. You pushed him gently. “Stop that”
He chuckled once more before kissing the top of your head. “Anything for you baby”
You had arrived at the concert, and he had introduced you to his six brothers all while beaming as if he was the sun itself.
They had all welcomed you with hugs, questions and overall excitement. Excitement that was so contagious you soon were bussing with it.
Namjoon made sure to always have your hand in his, an arm flung around your shoulders, or having you leaning against his chest as he gently rested his chin on the top of your head.
And despite the chaos of dancers, stylists and mua’s, he managed to make it all feel like the safest place you had ever been.
He had made sure you got a seat where you could see him at all time, and he had made sure his front was towards you every second.
It was nerve wrecking for him to be on stage. He so hoped that you would feel pride and awe in what he did, in what he loved. Luckily it was only that and deep love and respect he felt through your shared bond the entire concert.
All those feelings made him give it a little extra, an effort that was definitely appreciated by army as well as you.
The ride from the venue and back to his hotel wasn’t the longest, and the feeling of having him close was even more amazing than anything you had ever dreamt of.
The two of you were quiet, not really wanting to speak before you were alone, there was so much that needed to be said, so much he needed to apologize for.
You could feel the nerves and the guilt eating away at him, but you also knew that just because you were able to know exactly what he was feeling, didn’t mean that he was ready to talk to you about it yet, so instead you waited.
“It’s cozy” you said as you entered his room, looked around on his exploded suitcase and all the little things that were scattered throughout the room.
You sat down on the bed and sent a smile his way, hoping it would make him open up.
He sighed once before leaning his head back, looking into the ceiling. “I’m so sorry,” he said.
You perked up at that, sitting a little straighter than you had a second ago.
He ran his hands through his hair before finally looking at you. “I’m so sorry I didn’t feel you before, I’m so sorry it took me this long to notice you were out there. I’m sorry that I’ve put you through so much anxiety, so many nights spent alone thinking I would never come”
You saw how the tears welled in his eyes, how they threatened to fall any second.
Instead of saying anything you just reached out for him, and he followed instantly, sitting down on his knees before you on the floor. His arms flung around your waist as you gently ran your hands through his hair as he cried, gently scratching his scalp with your nails.
You sat like that for a few minutes, until his breathing steadied. The you pulled him away from your chest and rested your hands on his cheeks, once again caressing those dimple of his.
“It takes two people to share a bond, and I didn’t notice you either, sure you might’ve been busier, but I should’ve been there for you as well, as support on stressful days, as a cheerleader in the back of your head, always cheering you on. We have a lot of catching up to do, both of us, but we also have a life to make it right”
He smiled, and you returned it before pulling him closer, gently rubbing your nose against his.
His eyes changed them, from loving and adoring to dominant and almost dragon-like, they got dark and the need he felt for you flushed over you was like a tidal wave.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, teasing you by drawing circles into your hips with his thumbs.
You swallowed once before you nodded. He didn’t hesitate, not even a second. Instead he quickly closed the distance between the two.
His lips was soft, gentle as if he was savoring something sweet, slowly taking his time to feel every emotion, feeling and taste.
The emotions were overwhelming, so much that the two of you needed to take a break. He slowly climbed over you, gently helping you scoot back onto the bed. He gave you a small peck as he smiled.
“I love that I can actually feel how I make you feel” He said as he gently nippled on your bottom lip.
The lust slowly crept over him, he pulled away once more with a raised brow. “Oh? You like that huh?”
“You could do anything to me Namjoon, and I would love it”
He closed his eyes and hid his head in the crook of your neck. “Say my name again” he almost whispered.
The kind command made you smile and a giggle threatened to spill past your lips but you held it back as you whispered his name into his ear.
“Fuck, you’ll be the death of me” he said as you saw how his pupils had completely taken over his eyes, somehow making them even more deadly than they already were.
He gently let one of his hands from your ankle up to your thigh, before he flung it around his own waist, the sheer weight of it pulled him closer to you.
“The question now is baby” he kissed right below your ear. “If-” a kiss a little lower down your neck, and he kept that going with every word he said. “- you’ll. Let. Me. Devour. You?”
He felt your need and your want for him, before you pulled him away from your neck and kissed him passionately, slowly letting go, letting yourself indulge in this with him.
The two of you had been rolling around in the sheets for hours upon hours, only taking small breaks to catch your breaths before starting once again.
You were curled around his side, your head resting on his giant chest.
“I think this is my new favorite pillow” he laughed loudly before kissing your somewhat sweaty brow.
“Good, because I would definitely want you to sleep in my arms as often as possible”
You turned to look at him, he gently started running a hand up and down your spine, gently caressing the skin beneath his fingertips.
“It feels like a dream, being here with you”
You saw how his eyes shone with both sadness and adoration. He sat up and kissed you tenderly. “I promise you it’s not. I promise that I’m here, that I’ll always be here. I promise that I’ll never leave”
One of his hands rested against your cheek and you leaned into it.
“Let’s make a deal, every now and then I’ll give you a small pinch, to remind you that this is real, that we are real?”
Old taglist (if you dont want to be added to the taglist, please reach out and let me know) @ijustwannareadstuff20 @zaycie @lveegsoi @hellaboredd @loudpeachdetective @why4anne @why-did-i-just-do-this @ramyeonzwithspam @floating-moon-dust @skyearby @acourtofmoonlightandstars @stormy1408 @tunafishyfishylike @sol3chu @blvengene @fics-lovebot @fangirl125reader @fabulousarepo4 @tunafishyfishylike @meowstake @chaseyui @ateez-atiny380 @reiofsuns2001 @dcrlingyou @dy-kyeom @unusuallyshy @littlemoonfairy02 @melovehao @kwonhs96 @juju-227592 @strwberrymuffins @mute-chaos @girliepop-is-in-the-house @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @wonznme @uncndtnllvr @plumpot17 @shegotheruby @huiimoon @user-0703 @my-neurodivergent-world @vwintershire @storyschanging @imhereonlytoreadxoxo
As always, please like, reblog, comment and follow if you like the story, and the taglist for this is open so just make a comment if you want me to add you to it
This is definitely not an aesthetically pleasing list, but it's the best I could do with the little time I had, so please forgive me and focus on the intention of my heart 🤍
jungkook
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight
yoongi
one
two
three
four
five
six
namjoon
one
two
💌 Don’t forget to share your favorites with me <3 MUAWH beijos 💋
⤷﹒intellectual foreplay – he’ll pin you to the couch with a question: “what turns you on when words fail?” then spends twenty minutes kissing down your throat while you try to answer. the second you stutter, he slides a hand between your legs, voice steady: “use your words, baby. i’m taking notes.”
⤷﹒size difference – loves the way his palm spans your entire lower back, the way you have to tilt your head to meet his eyes when he’s inside you. lifts you onto the kitchen counter just to watch your feet dangle, thighs spread around his hips, murmuring, “look how small you fit against me.”
⤷﹒slow burn penetration – he lines up, pushes in an inch, then stills. waits. counts your breaths. only moves when you’re clenching around the tip, begging in fragments. “patience,” he says, thumb brushing your lip, “i want to feel every millimeter.”
⤷﹒dirty philosophy – mid-thrust, he’ll quote neruda against your ear, then translate it into filth: “i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees—fuck you open until you bloom.” the contrast of poetry and raw need makes you come harder than the rhythm alone.
⤷﹒overstimulation (gentle) – after you come, he keeps the same pace, same angle, whispering statistics about nerve endings until you’re trembling through a second wave. wipes your tears with the same thumb that just circled your clit.
