Oh, pt. 3 (m.)
— genre | Roomie/Bestie!Namjoon x female reader + fluff + angst
— words | 3.9k
— member | Kim Namjoon
An awkward encounter with your roommate triggers painful memories, but there’s a way you can learn to move on.
— warnings | NSFW, mentions of sex, body worship, fingering (f. receiving)
*Y/N- Your name
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A/N: It's taken me a long time to get back into this fic, and I'm so grateful to you all for being so patient with me (I'm definitely looking at you, Owls-and-stars ! As many of you know, this was my very first fic ever, and of course as an overachiever, I had to start with a miniseries, so this has been a growth exercise for sure. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!
[As he disappears around the corner, you roll over on your side, curling yourself tightly into a ball and pressing a fist to your mouth to muffle the sobs as the tears fall hot and fast onto your pillow.]
Oh my god, he’d done it. Was he dreaming? Or better yet, was he insane? Could this possibly end well? Never in his wildest fantasies could Namjoon have imagined that he would be in this position. But there was no way he was going to turn back now. This was an opportunity to show you what was possible, what you deserved. Taking a deep breath, he focuses himself. Just do this one thing, yes, one thing at a time. He knows that he could frighten you away if he’s too aggressive. But dammit, he’s seen you go through so much and he is so sick of watching you underestimate and undervalue yourself because of your ex’s stupidity. You are such an amazing woman, so beautiful inside and out, kind-hearted, impatient, compassionate, stubborn, intelligent, and strong, with crazy quirks and occasionally unpredictable. You’re wonderful, and he feels fortunate to be your friend. It is time you understood that you are worthy of every good thing life has to offer, starting now.
One thing at a time, man. Start with this one simple act, running you a bath. And so, he concentrates with almost ritualistic intent, ensuring the water temperature is just right, pouring in your bath foam and salts, reaching for your fluffiest towel and making sure your robe is within reach. Finally, it becomes increasingly apparent that he’s just stalling, so he hurries out of the bathroom in hopes that you haven’t fallen asleep.
You’re not asleep, of course, although you wish you could be, and though his heart breaks just a bit more at the evidence that you’ve been crying, he pretends not to notice. “Let’s get you cleaned up, princess.” He reaches over you and takes you in a soft embrace, before reaching under you and lifting you like you’re delicate, fragile. And to be honest, in this moment, maybe you are. Normally, you’d be raising hell about being carried around like you’re incapable of walking, but right now, you’re emotionally too drained to give a shit, and there’s a part of you soaking up Namjoon’s tenderness and care. So you don’t complain as he places you gently into the bathtub, releasing a comforted sigh as the water soothes over your frazzled nerves and pretending you don’t notice the painfully tented profile of his sweatpants when as he closed the bathroom door on his way out.
How could you be so… there are no words for it. Foolish? Wanton? Shameless? You wince internally at the last mental suggestion, all too aware that shame is something that you currently feel, in spades. What the hell were you thinking? Are you so dick-deprived, so sexually depraved that you just had to bed your bestie? Shit. Your lengthy attempt to baptize yourself in your bathwater was enough to burn your eyes with the soap from the water, but not enough to cleanse your mind and the contents within.
You’ve been staring at the closed door for several minutes, but that’s not the scene inside your head. No, your mind is a theatre, and the current showing features the delicious sight of Namjoon, his sculpted abs taut with tension, his neck arching temptingly in alignment with his pale blonde tresses thrown back in abandon as he strained against the pleasure of your mouth laving over his thick, hot, throbbing…
Fuck. You really needed to stop reading so many romance novels, and you also needed to stop remembering the lingering, savoring kisses, the excruciatingly tender caresses, the passion that made you feel so needy and desperate, the way you almost came apart at the hand of-
Miserable, obliterating hell, you wince, your best friend. Can you even still call him that? Are you still friends, or more, or- shit- even less now that you just had to be a horny slut? The reemerging horror and subsequent shame is enough to send you diving back under the lingering bubbles once more.
The first brisk jolt of the shower does nothing to calm Namjoon’s mind, nor the raging boner he’s been sporting since he pulled out of you.
Oh God, get it together, man. He was ruined, absolutely ruined. He was so stupid for you before, and now this. Why had he ever thought this would be a good idea? But how could he ever walk away from a chance to love you the way you deserved? To make you feel beautiful and desirable, to cherish you in a way that none of the others ever had, the only way that you were worthy of. He would walk through fire doused in gasoline for the chance, and here you were, so trustingly offering yourself into his care. He could not, would not fail. God, if only you knew how much he loved you. Play it cool, Joon. He knew his place, knew you didn’t really see him how he saw you. But he knows he can show you so much more, and now that you’re willing to let him, he’s willing to take it as slow as you need, for as long as it takes. He’s well-equipped for the marathon of bringing you to the fullness of love that he has for you.
It took all of his willpower to walk away from you just now, when everything in him was crying out for you. The longing to take you into his arms and pamper you and whisper words of tender affection into your ears as you reclined against him, as he gently bathed you and scrubbed your worries away as he washes your hair for you… oh too much.
For now, he’d settle for plotting as he temporarily froze his hunger for you with a frigid shower, the only kind that helps. At least, it helped until he allowed himself to remember the sound of you, the feel of you as you writhed under him, lost in the throes of passion. Oh fuck, the smell of you, the taste of you on his tongue… he groaned in torturous recollection, overcome by the memory as his mouth begins to water at the thought of all he’s been missing. You were sweeter than he’d even dared to imagine…. Shit, focus, Namjoon… He turns the temperature of the water even colder as he conjures up mental images of calculus problems, quantitative physics, and chess strategies and tactics so that he can make it through his shower in peace, all while planning a strategy of his own.
Bathwater long gone cold, you accept your fate and brace yourself for an encounter with your roommate-turned-hookup, rounding the corner to the living room/kitchen area with almost militant intent. The curtains are open and the sun is bright, illuminating the clean, peaceful space that is completely foreign from the way you and your girlfriends left it the night before. For a moment, you stand there, a bit lost and blinking. It feels like an age has passed since last night, hell, since this morning. But in truth, it’s still Saturday, and Namjoon is still a sweetheart, which is why he is currently putting breakfast takeout from your favorite diner on plates, the aroma of coffee wafting enticingly toward your caffeine-deprived nostrils. He glances up mid-plating when he hears you enter, scooping up a steaming mug of devil’s brew and handing it to you with a nonchalant brush of his lips against your forehead in greeting.
You pause mid-step, unsure how to proceed, but Namjoon continues serving the food like nothing has happened, launching into a casual recitation of his plans for the day, plans which most notably involve him being gone for a significant portion of the day, beginning shortly after he serves breakfast. You can feel the tension slowly draining from your body as he chatters on, until you’re leaning slightly against the counter watching him work although you don’t quite recall coming further into the room.
Before you can process this further, the movement of a pulled out chair registers in your periphery, distracting you from any unsettling notions. Namjoon waits calmly as he gazes at you, one gently arched eyebrow serving as both invitation and silent challenge. Accepting the seat, you murmur your thanks, stomach complaining loudly in anticipation of the food. “Eat up, it’s all for you,” Namjoon informs you, chuckling as you duck your head in embarrassment and surprise.
“Wait, you’re not eating?” you ask. Even though you aren’t sure if you could be completely comfortable sharing a meal with him so soon after everything that’s happened, you don’t want things to be so awkward that he feels he has to avoid you. Shaking his head no, Namjoon starts to sit down on the edge of the table next you, then seems to think better of it, at the last minute pulling over a chair to your side and plopping down. “I told you earlier, Y/n, I have to go into work today. But,” he pauses, taking a breath, “I did want to talk to you before I left… and I, uh, kinda hoped that the food, you know..” Now you were the one who had to laugh. “Joon, did you hope to coax me out here with food?” Your laughter grows even louder at the sight of Namjoon looking…sheepish. “Well...yes?” And then he was joining you in your laughter.
“Okay, but for real, Y/N, I know that you don’t want to discuss what happened this morning, and like I already said, I won’t ask you to if you would rather not. But I just wanted to say again that I only want you to feel comfortable. I know that I’m asking for a lot, asking you to trust me. I just- I just want to know that we’re okay?” The sincerity shining in his eyes is almost too much, but you know it would hurt his feelings if you looked away right now. “Yeah, Joon, we’re okay; promise.” You see his posture lighten with this, as if a weight has been cast away. Was he really that serious? You don’t know what to do with that information. You decide to file it away for later review, being drawn back to the present moment by the gentle tug of Namjoon’s hand on yours. “I, um, I also wanted to ask…” He’s the first to look away after all, voice trailing, face growing redder as the moment drags on in silence. You wait, assuming he will eventually say what’s on his mind, but the seconds tick by on the wall clock as you watch him seem to struggle in an internal battle, you realize that you are going to have to be the one to gather courage to bridge the gap. “Ask me what, Joon? My food’s getting cold, you have to go to work, and I’m starting to get nervous.” Head snapping up at the sound of your slightly peevish tone, the words seem to fall out before he can fully control them.
“Iwaswonderingifyouwouldstillallowmetotry?” Taking a breath, he tries again. “Sorry- I- I was wondering… if you would still let me try? To, you know?” Closing his eyes briefly, he gathers his courage one more time. That seems to be his thing, you notice vaguely. “I really want to please you, Y/N. Will you let me?” This he says so gently, so intently, that you feel yourself swoon a bit inside. The answer is yes, hell yes, always yes, but your brain fails to communicate the message so you just sit there, staring at him a little lost until you finally realize that he’s still waiting for your response. “Yes,” you nod, a bit dumbly, and the smile that he gives you in return is almost blinding. “Okay,” he sighs, leaning in to touch his forehead to yours before leaping back with a start. “Oh shit, I’m going to be late!” Jumping up, he grabs his keys and bag and heads for the door.
Finally redirecting your attention to your probably-now-cold pancakes, you barely register him say, “I forgot something,” and are startled by the way his face intrudes into your vision, until he kisses you, quickly and suddenly, and you forget everything, too. The tender brush of his lips coaxes and caresses, soothing your lingering worries and filling you with the suggestive promise of more before he pulls away, tasting your lips once more before he speaks. “Thanks for an amazing morning, Y/N,” and then he’s gone for real, and you’re left sitting dumbfounded at the table, food long forgotten. “Thank you, Namjoon.” And for the first time in a long time, you dare to daydream of good things to come.
The warm and fragrant atmosphere of candles at dusk, providing both soft illumination and forgiving shadow. The decadent softness of a plush blanket. The exotic curve of a softly curled wisp of hair. The burnished ochre of a well-loved page, no longer crackling with the crispness of paper newly printed, but rather whispering and sighing like a lover sharing secrets. To Namjoon, that is what Heaven is like, because it is this moment that he is spending with you. In this instant, watching you, curled up against his side with your favorite book, breathing in your tantalizing scent as he pretends to read over your shoulder as an excuse to appreciate the delicate arch of your neck: how could he not feel like the luckiest man alive?
Lips softly trailing behind his fingers as he traces light patterns over your skin, Namjoon’s almost imperceptible sigh echoes your own. It’s been a few weeks since that fateful experience, and Joonie’s been as good as his word. He hasn’t pressured you to have sex again, but he’s been, well, affectionate. It started out slow: with him sneaking quick kisses every now and then or finding reasons to touch you more. But then it evolved and escalated, quickly. Swift pecks turned into much more heated kisses, and tender caresses have started to get a bit hot and heavy at times, but he always seems to bring you to the point of relaxing into it, of enjoying it, and then lets it die away. You’ve been trying not to overthink, not to read even more into this already complicated situation, but then again, when have you ever successfully corralled your brain when it wanted to be chaotic and inconvenient? So, naturally, right now as the two of you are simply basking in each other’s presence, the words are out of your mouth almost as soon as you think them.
“Hey Joon, what are we doing?”
“Hmm?” His reply is notably distracted as he continues to nuzzle his way toward your jawline. “Reading?”
“No,” you begin patiently, although that patience is swiftly disappearing into the fuzzy haze of what you’ve begun to refer to in your mind as “casual lust”, aka whatever the hell it is that Namjoon has been teaching you to feel recently. “No,” you try again, more firmly this time. “I was reading, or trying to.”
His lips pause in their exploratory mission as he sees that you are struggling to concentrate, and in true Namjoon form, he places all of his attention on whatever it is that you wish to say. However, the fingers that continue idly tracing your side still threaten to steal your focus. “I was reading, and you are,” you breathe, “doing, well, this, whatever this is that you’ve been doing. You know, all of it. The touching and kissing. What’s up with that?”
Namjoon has been diligently listening, attentive to hear your concerns, but now that you’ve voiced your complain, he can’t help but smile inside. This is good. You sound slightly disgruntled, but he’s spent the past few weeks learning your body, learning you. He knows that you like it. If anything, you sound… unsettled. Dissatisfied, even. That is very good. It means you’ve been adjusting, getting comfortable with feeling good. Who knows? Maybe soon, you’ll feel comfortable enough to allow yourself to feel even better. Of course, he doesn’t say that.
“Do you mind, Y/N? Does it bother you that I touch you? I can stop if it does…”
“No,” you reply a little too quickly. “I don’t mind. I guess I’m just...curious.” Because it feels like more than just messing around, you think to yourself. It feels...tender...romantic, even. It makes you feel like home, Namjoon, and I don’t know what to do with that.
“Curious?” he parrots. “Then allow me to satisfy you. Your curiosity, I mean.” The devious glint in his eyes confirms that he knows how it sounded and makes you suspect that he meant to give you a double meaning. “I could tell you all the reasons why I can’t seem to keep my hands to myself when you’re around, why I always look for a reason to touch you, why I’m so hungry for that sweet mouth of yours. I could tell you that I am just trying to make you feel good, and that would also be the truth. But in all honesty, Y/N, I just really enjoy kissing you.”
His declaration makes you freeze, but Namjoon gives you no time to think or fret before he’s using his hands and his lips to erase every last thought and potential worry from your brain, his tender kisses branding your flesh with their heat, the gravel in his voice causing your mind to stall and go blank.
“I enjoy it because your skin is so soft, and you taste so sweet, and I love how your eyes close and your mouth falls open because you love the way my lips feel on you… Or am I wrong, Y/N?” Even your name feels like a caress falling from his lips, and the sound of it makes you shiver a little. “Don’t you like the way it feels when I run my lips across your skin, savoring the taste of you?” He knew you did, and heaven help him, he did, too. It would also be true to say that he loves being with you, always has, but he knows that to admit that would scare you, would pressure you. So instead, he’s still honest, but he only tells you what you can stand to hear, what you can handle…
Right now, he knows you could handle a little less talking on his part.
And so, he continues to show you instead, artfully undressing you in a slow, painstakingly deliberate way, feasting on your beauty with his eyes, his hands, his mouth. The praise in his words, the adoration in his eyes, the reverence with which he devours every inch of you, unhurriedly, passionately… it’s enough to lose yourself in the feeling.
His nose brushes the soft skin where your side and hip meets, pausing to inhale the sweet, earthy smell of your arousal heavy in the air. Fuck, you make his mouth water. Placing another kiss, this time at the top of your thigh, he takes another deep breath, this time discreetly reading your body language for any signs of tension or discomfort. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, your last remaining article of clothing, lightly teasing both the material and the ticklish skin underneath. “Baby,” the nickname comes so naturally to him now, “may I- Shit.”
The question is interrupted by the jarring ringtone, the obnoxious one that indicates it’s his job calling. His apologetic dimpled expression is all it takes for your to swallow your frustration and give him a forgiving smile as he reaches for the phone, pulling the blanket over you to prevent you from exposure to chill in his absence. As his voice and footsteps fade around the corner, you finally release a shaky breath of pent-up emotion.
Damn, Namjoon is good. It seems that no matter how frequent these encounters have become, he still never fails to leave you breathless. It’s true, that in some perverse way, you’ve gotten used to the initial feelings of arousal-- they don’t frighten you anymore, not in that “he’s expecting something from me” way. Now it’s easier to just relax and go with the flow, if being horny as hell on a regular basis can be considered relaxing. But it is nice to be able to just appreciate feeling good at the hands of a skilled and handsome man without strings attached. Unless of course you count heartstrings. Yours, to be specific. But, yeah, no, you’ve decided you’re not counting.
You’re counting, comparing the number of heartbeats per second against what you consider normal; is your heart beating unusually fast?
And you’re hot; god, why are you so hot all of a sudden?
You feel unsettled in your skin, restless and slightly desperate, and you determine that you must have dozed off while Namjoon was gone. You say “was” because you’re faintly aware of his bodily presence next to you, adding to your body heat.
It’s probably the blanket, you think, and in the next moment you’re peeling back the covers, feeling the cool air ease the discomfort of your skin.
Better.
Only now, you’re aware of your exposed, naked body, of your nipples erect from the chill, of soft hands grazing over your breasts, your collarbone, your stomach… Fuck. It feels so good to be touched, so soothing in the wake of the ache that’s been building in your body for so long.
You’re so needy…
A faint whimper escapes as you feel one nipple pinched, the other one twisted and caressed alternately. More. You need more and you need it now. You’ve no sooner thought the words than the hand pinching and pulling your breast makes its way down your torso, circling and stroking your clit.
So good, it feels so good, but still you need more.
“More, please,” you plead, and you’re rewarded by the stretch of two fingers plundering your heat, while the other hand continues to edge you toward your pleasure. You’re on fire now, but every sensation is hurtling you closer, closer. But you want to see his face, hear his voice. Why won’t he say something?
“Namjoon?” you say, but did your mouth move? “Joon,” you try again, more moan than anything as you feel yourself racing towards the precipice of bliss. “Please.” And then you hear him, sounding so close and so far away.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” and then your world is exploding, hard. It feels like worlds are contained in a single moment, all expanding at once to give you a divine glimpse of unnameable glory before it’s all gone again in a blink, and as your body fights to regroup, you’re forced into- awareness?
You awaken breathless and disoriented, forcing your eyes to focus in the dimly dawn-lit room. As you struggle to catch your bearings, your eyes meet Namjoon’s penetrating gaze, dark, hungry and intense as he stares back. A slow smile spreads stealthily across his face, seductive and slightly predatory. “Did you have a nice dream?” he inquires, in a tone a shade too precise to be innocent. Still groggy, you search your brain to try to catch his meaning… until suddenly you falter, recalling the moments prior to your awakening, both figurative and literal. But wait, you scramble mentally to put the pieces together, there’s no way he could know…
Your confusion is written all over your face, and still you flounder, until he reaches out and grabs your hand... the hand that you’ve been touching yourself with in your sleep, now coated with the juices from your thoroughly soaked and sated cunt. Before you can fully allow your mortification to process, Namjoon, the bastard, proceeds to wrap those plush, agonizing lips around your fingers and lick them clean, never breaking eye contact, and the growl of pleasure that escapes his throat is positively feral. Well, fuck.
Part 1 Part 2 Tag list: @lamourche, @brie02, @btsspell, @kpurereactions, @ringsofjoon, @maddoxwildove, @socialmaddox, @chiminiemoans, @serendipitiousbutterfly, @ogsoftbabyboy, @kludsy, @wallflower060, @chimsinyourarea, @tokikav, @bangtanpraise, @dragonsbbygirl, @awsome-small-k, @notyourtypicalrose, @spider-manblog, @awesome-ash15, @its-joyvely, @swiggitswooggit, @sungoldish, @b-angst-tanrecs, @owls-and-stars, @everything-got-confusing, @i-hate-this-name-thingy, @imverywiggly, @chimsbabyy, @armyguide, @sosok-lucasa, @markslefttiddie, @awkwardwookie, @loststars2255, @sehuns-vi-vi, @nari-la-morena, @wheelsxsoftiee, @latina-nerd, @sandra123abc, @aeiva, @kaeru012, @kimtaehyungisbiasdestroyer, @jiminsthicccthighs, @xcharlottemikaelsonx, @spike-meowsters, @jiminieslovely, @inlovewithjooniejoonie, @slut-for-fandoms, @mozy-j, @byuns-coco, @jellycake2109, @bitesizebtsrepost, @rosiexx8, @thirstykpophoe, @trashynctzenwritings, @groovygooppersonfish, @mochiiblues, @maryseesthings, @passportapprovedobsessed, @perfect4niall, @scalbra, @sailorjoonies, @amordesiempre01, @bubblyabs, @joonlonelyheartsclub, @speakyourselfloveyourself, @gabriellagena, @shoot-shoot-bang-bang, @lifesaleech, @teddybearmuke, @lyssakrista, @flawlessbitcx, @7sirens, @kittenxo2, @satiricallll, @hellosweetiesworld, @kathrynwynterbourne, @alphnai, @chocolatedreamlandfury, @lakeli, @jkxnochu, @bangtanhardcore, @iriswashername, @bts-7-forever, @bobatae13, @jessica-lynn93, @4namjoon, @sakurauchiha2018
