#rm bts

[n9mgi]

street thing kim namjoon x reader

producer! namjoon x fem non-celeb! fem reader

summary: on the side of a sunburnt los angeles road, you with a broken down car meet a man you can't stop thinking about. he's older, composed, impossibly charming, and far too experienced to be looking at you the way he does. you're used to immature love that never knew how to hold you properly. but with him, everything is different.

themes: age gap (reader is 24, namjoon is 33), los angeles in the 2000s, smut, fluff, famous producer x non!celebrity reader, reader doesn't know who he is, confident joon yum, mainly readers pov w/ brief joon's pov, he's whipped, brief texting, tension, established relationship, strangers to lovers, teasing, they go on dates, joon is a gentleman, relationship building, joon is so dom and a lil possessive, nicknames, porn with lots of plot, eventual love confession

warnings: sexual themes, explicit & descriptive smut MINORS DNI 18+ (hard dom! joon, slight age kink & size kink, slightly semi-public sex(?? in his studio :3), unprotected sex, praise/dirty talk, missionary, cowgirl, edging/teasing, fingering, oral f, slight choking if u squint, creampie)

word count: 18k.. whoops

inspired by arirang joon because he's just too fine

♬ ₊˚. street thing - aaliyah

read part 2 here ✧ domestic au, boyfriend namjoon.

it was a late, blazing july afternoon with the kind of california heat that sticks to everything.

your beater car had just given up on you in the worst possible place it could—pulled over on the stretch of a busy road with no shade, just heat shimmering off the black asphalt and distant palm trees that don't feel helpful at all.

you already tried the obvious things. ignition, gas, trying it all again like it might change something.

it never did.

you leaned back against the passenger door of your car letting out a frustrated breath, hair sticking to your neck as you watched cars pass by with the soft sound of your hazards blinking in the background.

of course it's today. of course it's here.

that was when you suddenly heard the low hum of an engine slow down beside you. a sleek, black bmw—expensive, but not loud about it. it pulled in front of your car, and for a second you think the car is just stopping briefly.

that was before the driver door opened.

he steps out like he’s not in a rush to be anywhere else.

tall—noticeably so, he moves towards you easily, like he’s used to taking up space without ever forcing it.

sunglasses sit low on his nose, shielding his eyes, but not enough to hide the way his attention lands exactly on you. his shirt is simple—lightweight, slightly open at the collar, sleeves pushed up just enough to show his forearms. nothing flashy.

but it fits him too well. everything about him does.

dark jeans, clean shoes, watch on his wrist that you can't recognize but can tell is expensive. you notice all of him in the mere seconds he takes to walk over to you, the feeling hitting you all at once.

dear god, he was fine. the kind that made you straighten up a little bit without realizing; running a quick hand through your hair and fixing your jewelry.

he walks toward the front of your car, unhurried, one hand sliding briefly into his pocket before resting against the hood of your car.

up close, it’s worse.

sharper features than you expected. clean, but not overly polished. there’s something slightly worn in about him—like experience and maturity that sits on him well.

“everything alright?” he asks, voice is low and steady.

you blink for a second longer than necessary before responding. why does he look like that... helping me with my car?

"uh-" you stammer before clearing your throat. "it's- it's dead."

"yeah..." he says, eyes examining your car closer. "i can see that."

you nod and suddenly there's a pause, small but noticeable.

he comes around the side of your car, closing the distance between you to look inside of the window. you fumble while taking a few steps back as he looks at your dashboard then back at you, suddenly flustered by his presence.

"you got jumper cables?" he asks.

you simply shook your head.

"didn't think so," he says simply.

he walks back to his car, and you stand there feeling so helpless in the hot sun as he turns his car around to face yours in a swift manner, opening the door casually before coming around to his trunk like he's done this plenty of times.

when he comes back with the cables, he quickly slides his sunglasses in a way you almost miss a glimpse of his whole face.

you assumed it was because of the sun. but little did you know, it wasn't.

because before he walked back to his car, he had looked at you a little too closely. it wasn't some polite, quick glance. it was one that lasted a second too long.

he noticed everything about you.

the way your top fits—not overly revealing, but just enough to catch his attention without trying. the fabric light, slightly clinging from the heat. your skirt—shorter than it probably needed to be, riding just a little higher from the way you shifted against your car door.

his gaze dropped, brief, controlled—then came back up. your legs, your hands, the thin bracelet at your wrist. rings that don’t match perfectly but somehow work. jewelry that feels personal to you.

he takes note of that. of course he does.

then, your face. slightly flush from the heat, skin warm toned and sun-kissed. there's something effortless about you, like you spent more time living in the sun than hiding from it.

your expression—somewhere between annoyed and trying not to be. and your eyes, focused on him, but not softened. not entirely impressed by him, but more appreciative.

and when he closed his trunk, he forgets to look away. so he pulls his sunglasses back over, quick and casual. like it's nothing.

and not because of the sunlight, but because he was looking at you a little too openly. and he knew it.

he arrives at your car and connects everything smoothly, no hesitation and big hands steady. it was unfairly attractive.

“so,” he says, glancing up while he works, “you live out here or just enjoying the scenic breakdown experience?”

a smile pulls at your mouth despite yourself. “neither. i was just trying to get home.”

“mm.” he clicks something into place. “dangerous thing to try in LA.”

that gets a small laugh out of you, softer now and less defensive.

when the car finally sputters back to life, you visibly relax. he steps back, wiping his hands lightly. “there you go."

you should've just said thank you and left. but something in you doesn't act immediately. because now that the problem was gone, the silence between you two felt different now.

“so how do i… repay you?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious.

he tilts his head slightly. "you don’t.” a beat passes. "just don't break down in the worst place possible next time."

you rolled your eyes a little, a smirk tugging at your lips. "no promises."

that earns a small smile from him. he steps back toward his car, then pauses like he’s deciding something.

“i’m—” he starts, then stops himself, like he’s choosing not to introduce himself the usual way. "i’ll see you around.”

"yeah... thank you."

and you watch him get back into his car, driving away and getting lost in the sea of los angeles traffic as you realized two things;

you didn't get his name, and you would likely never see him again.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

one week later

he's just getting off the phone when it happens.

“yeah, send it over tonight,” he says, already half-distracted. “i"ll listen then.”

a pause. “mm. yeah. i got it.” he ends the call before the other person finishes their last sentence.

he slips his phone into his pocket, stepping onto the sidewalk, the afternoon sun hitting just right—warm, a little blinding, the kind of los angeles light that makes everything look softer than it is.

but he's not really paying attention at first.

he's thinking about work. about a track that still isn’t sitting right. about whether he even wants to go to the next session he has lined up.

and then—he sees you.

just down the block, wired headphones plugged into your ears as you walk towards a small coffee shop.

it takes him half a second too long for him to register it. he slows before stopping in his place on the scorching sidewalk just to be sure.

same walk. same unintentional confidence—like you're not trying to be noticed, which somehow makes you stand out more. your outfit catches his attention again without effort. something light, slightly different from the first time he saw you, but still you.

skirt again—of course. not the same one, but same idea.

he notices that. he notices everything.

you push the door open to the shop before disappearing inside. and for a second—he considers just letting you go, letting the roadside interaction stay that way, a one time street kind of thing that didn't need to turn into anything else.

he exhaled quietly before shaking his head, "yeah, no." he changed his direction subtly like he was always going that way.

by the time he reaches the door, he's already composed again. no rush or urgency in him, just the same steady stride he always carried around.

inside the cafe, it’s quieter than the street. low music, soft conversations, and the smell of coffee swirled in the air.

he scans the space once and it doesn't take long for him to find you, standing near the counter, slightly turned away, looking up at the menu like you're stuck deciding between the same two things.

he watches you for a second. not long, but enough. and suddenly, there's that feeling again rising up in his chest.

he steps into line behind you—close enough to matter, not close enough to be obvious. he lets the moment build naturally. of course he does. he lets you stay unaware just a second longer.

then, as you shift your weight and turn slightly back—he steps forward at the exact right time. light contact, your shoulder to his chest. just enough to capture your attention.

"oh, sorry—" you say automatically before looking up. it took a moment for you to process that the same, gorgeous man who jumped your car last week was the one currently blocking your vision.

he tilts his head slightly, like he’s just as surprised. “well,” he says, calm, almost amused, “this is becoming a pattern.”

you blinked. "you... helped me with my car."

"i did," he agrees. "and now apparently i'm following you around LA."

you narrow your eyes slightly. "are you?"

he puts a hand over his chest, mock offended but calm. “i prefer ‘running into you repeatedly by tragic coincidence.’”

that earns a laugh from you, the first real one between you. the barista calls you next in line, and he trails behind you like you're a couple ordering together. his presence alone makes your heart thump against your chest.

the barista takes your order and before you can even unzip your purse to pay, you already see a large hand coming from behind you, inserting a card in the machine.

the barista hands the man behind you the receipt and you turn around abruptly, tilting your head up to fully face him as you both drift away from the register. "i can pay for myself," you said.

"i know," he says simply.

"i was supposed to pay," you corrected as you picked up your freshly made coffee order.

"why?" he asked genuinely, tilting his head to match the angle of yours. it sent a light pink blush up your cheeks.

you look at him like the answer is obvious. "because you jumped my car."

his eyebrows pulled together. "that was like five minutes of my time." you all but blinked, suddenly at a loss of words under the intense gaze of this mysterious, confident man.

he begins to walk towards a table and you follow him, still protesting under your breath. "that doesn't mean you get to—"

“get to what?” he glances back at you, sunglasses now off, and it’s worse without them in a way—more direct, more readable. more of his perfectly chiseled face exposed to you. “buy you coffee?”

you open your mouth, then close it. because the way he said it made it sound ridiculous to argue.

you both end up choosing a table by the window. endless blue, moving slowly under the late afternoon sun. a few people pass by on bikes, others walking along the sidewalk with iced coffees in hand, like time moves differently here.

not sat too close to him, not too far—just enough space that it could still be casual if either of you decided to pretend it was.

“so, what do you do?” you ask finally, wrapping your hands around the cup.

he leans back slightly in his chair. “music.”

“that’s vague.”

“it's intentional.”

you give him a look. “oh, so you’re mysterious.”

“i’m tired,” he corrects lightly, a smirk of amusement tugging at his lips. “there’s a difference.”

that makes you smile. “what, like a band?” you press.

“no,” he says. “behind the scenes.”

“oh.” you tilt your head. “like a manager?”

he pauses for a moment. "something like that."

it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. you nod like you accept that answer, but the curiosity doesn't go away.

“and you?” he asks.

you almost laugh. “i don’t do music.”

“didn’t say you did.”

“i mean…” you gesture vaguely. “nothing like that. i work. i live on the edge of LA where nothing interesting happens.”

his gaze holds on you a second longer than necessary. "that’s not true,” he says.

you frown slightly. “you don’t even know me.”

“i know you broke down on the side of a road in peak heat and didn’t immediately panic,” he says. “that tells me something.”

"like what?" "that you're stubborn," he replies calmly.

you lean forward a little, eyes analyzing his expression. "that's not a compliment."

“it can be,” he says. “depends who it’s about.”

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you and him slip into easy conversation—half started stories, simple questions, the kind of conversation that doesn't feel like you're trying too hard.

you're mid-sentence, explaining something about where you live—how everything feels slower out there—when he interrupts you, but gently. “how old are you?”

you pause, caught off guard. “that’s random.”

“it’s relevant,” he says, like that should be obvious.

“to what?”

he lifts his cup slightly, studying you over the rim for a second before answering. “to how seriously i should be taking you.”

your eyebrows lift immediately. “excuse me?”

there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “i’m kidding,” he says, calm, unbothered. “mostly.”

you shake your head, trying not to smile. “twenty four.”

he nods once, like he expected that. “yeah,” he murmurs.

“yeah what?” you press.

“nothing,” he says, setting his cup down. “it makes sense.”

“that’s so annoying,” you say. “you don’t get to say that and not explain.”

“i just did.”

“no, you didn’t.”

he leans back slightly, relaxed, completely comfortable letting you be a little frustrated. “you carry yourself younger at times,” he says. “but not in a bad way.”

you narrow your eyes. “that still feels like an insult.”

“it’s not,” he says, softer now. “it’s honest.”

you look at him for a second longer than you mean to. “okay,” you say quietly. “then how old are you?”

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he tilts his head slightly, watching you like he’s deciding how much to give. “what do you think?” he asks.

you study him now, more deliberately. he doesn’t look older, not really. no obvious lines, no tiredness. and of course, he looks put together in a way most guys your age aren’t.

“twenty-seven,” you say finally. “maybe twenty-eight.”

he lets out a soft laugh—low, almost under his breath.

you frown immediately. “what?”

“nothing,” he says, shaking his head slightly with amusement.

“no, what?”

“you’re off,” he says.

“by how much?”

he pauses, then shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “enough.”

“that’s not an answer,” you says leaning forward closer now.

“it is,” he replies calmly. “just not one you like.”

you stare at him, half-annoyed, half-curious. “you’re not going to tell me?”

“not yet.”

your eyes narrow. “why?”

he meets your gaze fully this time. “because i want to see if it changes anything for you.”

you lean back slightly, thrown off in a way you don't show completely. “why would it?” you ask.

he shrugs after a small pause. he glances down at your cup. “you drink your coffee too slow, by the way.”

your mouth falls open a little as the moment quickly softens again. “oh my god.”

“just saying.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“and you’re still here,” he points out lightly.

the conversation drifts again after that, easier now. you talk more without meaning to—little things, fragments of your life. he listens in a way that feels attentive, but not invasive. like he’s not collecting information, just understanding your pace.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you both drift toward the door without really deciding to. the conversation doesn’t end—it just slows, like both of you are aware it has to, eventually.

outside, the afternoon has softened. the heat isn’t as sharp anymore, but it’s still there, hanging in the air between you.

you shift your weight slightly, glancing down the street, then back at him. “this was…” you start, then stop, like you don't want to overdefine it. he watches you, gazed fixed on you patiently.

“unexpected,” you continue on.

he nods once. “yeah.”

“i still owe you,” you say.

he glances down at you. “you don’t.”

“i do.”

“you don’t,” he repeats, softer but final. but after a small beat, “if it makes you feel better, you can get the next one.”

you narrows your eyes. “there’s going to be a next one?”

he paused again, but only for a fraction of a second too long before he shrugged slightly like it was nothing. "if you break down again, i might start thinking it's planned."

you rolled your eyes, but a smile pulled helplessly at your lips. as you stepped out into the light of the sun, you realized two things at once. this man still hadn't told you who he is or his name, and that you somehow already agreed to see him again.

"let me see your phone," he said lowly, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes once again. it wasn't really a question.

and so you reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone, and without asking—he takes your hand gently, turning your palm slightly towards his. the faintest brush of his fingers sent an unexpected warmth up your arm in a way you couldn't ignore.

he picked up your phone that now seemed so small in his hands, typing something quickly before handing your phone back. you looked down at your screen, squinty slightly from the sun.

his name. a number.

joon 213-555-0010

when you look back up at him, he's already watching you—unreadable in a way that sent a pink flush throughout your cheeks.

"joon," you said, like you needed to say his name out loud. like you knew it was just a nickname.

he simply nodded, something small like a smile tugging at his lips from the sound of you hearing his name. "yeah."

he paused, low eyes peering above his sunglasses as he looked at you closely. "you gonna tell me yours?" he asked lowly, the baritone of his voice hitting a little too close.

so you told him, and he repeated it a few times under his breath like he had to let it sink on his tongue. "y/n," he said finally, voice quieter than usual. "pretty name for a pretty girl."

your eyes couldn't help but widely slightly at his bold words, the pink on your face turning into a deep red.

a small pause filled the air before you swallowed, trying your best to lock in your confidence in front of this man. "you didn't ask for my number," you said.

"i know."

"that's a little backwards."

"not really."

you titled your head. "why?"

he took a step back, giving you just a little more space. "because now it's your choice."

you study him for a second, like you're trying to figure out if this is some kind of game. some kind of reality tv show where they prank you with some hot mysterious man. but it didn't feel like one.

"and if i don't text you?" you ask.

a small pause before he shrugged easily. "then i'll assume you didn't want to." but his tone didn't have any pressure or persuasion in it.

"confident," you mutter.

"selective," he corrected.

you almost rolled your eyes—but you don't quite let it happen. he glances past you for a second, like he's remembering that he actually has somewhere to be. then, they quickly averted back to you.

"if you do," he continues, quieter now. "don't over think it."

you let a small laugh. "too late."

that earns a small smile from him, dimples tugging at his cheeks in a way you noticed immediately. "i figured."

another pause before he steps back swiftly, like he's deciding that he couldn't stay any longer than necessary—even if he wanted to. "i'll see you around," he says, for the second time.

before you can respond, he's already turning and stepping away, suddenly gone in the same effortless and casual way he arrived.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

that night, you tell yourself you're not going to think about him.

and you failed immediately.

you failed when you went to dinner with your friends, when you did chores around your house; in the shower and when you laid in your own bed that night—the bed that was supposed to make your thoughts go away. it was the small things at first.

the way he didn’t rush anything. the way he answered questions without really answering them. the way he looked at you like he already understood something you hadn’t said out loud yet.

and as the night continued on, the bigger things settled in your brain, making heat shamefully pool between your legs.

he didn't ask for your number. he didn't try to lock you in. instead, he just left his number with you.

who is he?

your phone sat next to you with the screen dark and off, but it felt louder than anything else in the room. you fell into a cycle of picking it up and putting it back down.

finally, you picked it up again, finding his contact. you flipped it shut, sucking in a sharp breath at the thought of messaging him. you found your thumbs typing, deleting, then typing something again.

you exhale softly, leaning back against your pillow trying your hardest not to overthink it, his voice replaying in the back of your head.

he wasn't some typical guy—you could tell in the way he carried himself. he walked casually, but with assurance. he dressed with stride, but still managed to blend in. he talked with confidence, and every line was coated with experience.

so now, it wasn't just about texting him. it's about what it would mean if you did. because somehow, after one roadside encounter and a cup of coffee—you already wanted more than you should have.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

namjoon's drive back was quiet. not because he wanted it to be—but because nothing else fit how he felt at the moment.

not even any of his music.

he had driven these streets thousands of times. the same turns, the same streets, the same palm trees. usually his mind is somewhere else entirely—work, mixes, deadlines, people who expect things from him.

but not tonight. because tonight, it kept circling back to you.

it all kept replaying in his head—the way you looked at him like you were trying to figure him out. he noticed the way you didn't try too hard. you didn't perform like everyone else in LA.

you didn't know what he is, who he is, or what kind of world he's involved in.

that was the part that was stuck in namjoon's head so deeply. because most people that meet him are already adjusted to him—already well aware, careful with their words and their tones, their intentions.

but you certainly weren't.

because you argued with him. you rolled your eyes and called him annoying. and you meant all of it.

a faint smile pulled at his mouth as he came to a stop at a red light. "twenty-seven," he muttered to himself, shaking his head and laughing slightly.

but still, you didn't hesitate.

he pulls into his place, kills the engine, but doesn’t get out right away. he glances at his phone, sitting in the center console of his car, dark and quiet.

but he doesn't reach for it. because namjoon was a patient man—he always had been. in work, in life, in everything that mattered.

once he gets inside his spacious, sleek home, he dropped his keys on the counter, running a hand through his hair, exhaling.

namjoon had been with plenty of women before. older, younger—in his world and outside of it. he always knows how it goes. he knows how to keep it light and uncomplicated.

but this didn't feel like that. because it felt like something that could get complicated. but instead of pushing it away like he normally would, he leaned into it. just a little.

an hour passes. then two.

namjoon tells himself he's not checking his phone. but it turns out to be a lie, because throughout night—he checks it without picking it up. glancing every time he walks past, like it might light up if he looks long enough. but it doesn't.

he tells himself to relax, that you have a life or that you might not be interested at all. but still—he wonders what you're up to. if you're thinking about him the way he's thinking about you. if you're overanalyzing that moment outside of the coffee shop.

suddenly, his phone buzzed. he doesn't look right away. he just looked at it before reading the unsaved number, no name attached. he picks it up and opens it almost immediately.

unknown: do you always leave girls with this much pressure or am i just special?

he lets out a quiet breath—half a laugh of amusement, half something else. there you finally were, exactly the way he had anticipated. he begins to type before he stops and quickly deletes it.

he leans back against the counter, thinking—not about what to say, but about how much he should give. because namjoon didn't want to rush this. he didn't want to come on too strong.

but he couldn't pretend that he was unaffected either, because he most certainly couldn't even if he wanted to. not with you.

he types again, this time sending it.

him: i was starting to think you wouldn't.

he watches the screen for a second longer than necessary, saving your contact before setting his phone down. it wasn't far, but it was just enough. because now, you know that he was waiting too.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you exhale softy, rolling onto your back with a smile that couldn't help but tug at your lips.

you: oh so you were waiting

a pause settled on the screen before the typing bubble popped up again.

joon: i was curious

you: that sounds like a more mysterious way of saying waiting

joon: you can call it whatever makes you feel better

and now, you definitely smiled at that. because he was already doing that thing again—side stepping without hesitation.

you: you're too difficult to read

joon: you're trying too hard then

you: i think you're just confusing

joon: only for you sweetheart

you actually laugh out loud at that, shaking your head and ignoring the way the nickname made pink tint your cheeks.

you: wow so is this how you talk to every girl you buy coffee for?

his reply comes faster this time.

joon: i don't buy anyone coffee

you: good answer

joon: an honest one what are you doing right now?

you glanced around your room like he could somehow see.

you: nothing important

joon: doesn’t sound convincing

you: i could say the same about you

joon: i’m working

you: doing your very mysterious job?

joon: still stuck on that?

you: a little

joon: you'll figure it out eventually

you bit your lip slightly, thinking of an answer.

you: you're very sure i'm going to stick around long enough to figure it out

joon: aren't you?

your heart does that annoying little jump again, and you don't answer right away. and he doesn't send anything else. instead, he waits. three minutes later;

you: maybe

joon: that's a start

another painfully long beat passes before your cellphone vibrates again.

joon: you busy tomorrow night?

you stare at the message, blinking twice to make sure you read it right. but somehow, half of you wasn't surprised. you were practically waiting in a way you couldn't admit. but the other half was incredibly in shock.

you started to type.. deleted it.. then typed again.

you: depends what are you planning?

joon: something better than coffee

you smiled immediately, even though you tried not to.

you: that's a little confident

joon: doesn't seem like you hate it

you: i don't

joon: good

a pause settled on the screen again.

joon: 8?

you exhaled slowly, the reality creeping in as you stared at the screen. you were really going to go on a date with this man. the same, confident and attractive man that had jumped your car and saved your day. the same man who's age and job you couldn't quite detect.

you: okay

joon: i'll pick you up don't overthink it

you rolled your eyes, smiling.

you: too late

joon: i know

and just like that, with one text conversation, it definitely was more than just a street thing.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you almost regret saying yes the moment you hear a car pull up outside, engine rumbling lowly outside your apartment window.

not because you didn't want to go, of course. but because now, it's real.

you check yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing the bumps in your hair and coating your lips with gloss one last time. simple, but intentional. something that said you tried... but didn't try too hard.

your phone buzzed.

joon: i'm outside

when you step out, you see the car first. the same sleek and clean car that had pulled over in front of you on that busy highway engulfed in heat.

then him.

leaning slightly agains the driver's side door, towering over the car with his sleeves pushed up, looking like he's only been there for a minute—but completely settled anyway. he wore a costly-looking dress shirt, glimmering chain around his neck and a sparkling watch wrapped around his built arm. you swallowed hard.

his eyes flick up from the ground immediately when he notices you. and for a second, he just looks at you. completely, unashamedly taking you in with his eyes slowly.

"yeah..." he says lowly, dragging his lips ever so quickly along his lips as you approached him, heels clicking beneath you. "you're going to be a problem tonight."

you couldn't ignore the heat that sent down your spine, but you simply peered up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently. "aren't i always?"

"i haven't seen you always," he replied.

you rolled your eyes, but a small smile pulled at your lips anyway. then, he stepped back, opening the door for you. you don't the miss the way he does it without hesitation. and when you sit inside, you don't miss the way his gaze burns into you before closing your door.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

the drive was easy, music low in the background, city lights coming to life as the sun started to dip below the horizon.

namjoon doesn't fill every silence—and somehow it makes it easier for you to talk.

"so where are you taking me?" you ask eventually.

"you'll see," he says casually, one hand on the steering wheel while the other rested between you.

"that's not helpful."

"it's not supposed to be."

you shook your head, smiling out the window. he pulls up to a restaurant that sits right by everything—the beach, the water, and the city. it was definitely upscale, but nothing intimidating.

inside, the lighting is warm yet dim, swift music playing and low conversations humming.

you were seated quickly. no waiting or confusion. you didn't quite realize the line of people who were standing for a table, and how you and him were able to breeze right past it.

when you arrive to your seat, it's right in front of the window, city lights and palm trees stretching on the glass in front of you. he pulls your seat out for you, helping you take off your coat and placing it along your chair.

after you place your orders, the conversation flows faster this time. less guarded, and more natural.

"so," he says, leaning back in his chair slightly. "what do you actually do?"

you sigh softly, like you already know the answer isn't impressive, even compared to his incredibly vague one. "i’m a waitress," you say. "nothing exciting."

he watches you for a second. "you keep saying that."

"because it's true."

"or because you think it's supposed to be."

that made you pause. "it's not exactly... impressive," you admitted.

he shrugs lightly. "most things that are don't matter."

you let out a small breath, like you didn’t expect that answer. “you always talk like that?” you ask.

“like what?”

“like you know something i don’t.”

a small smirk pulls at his mouth. “sometimes i do.”

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you and namjoon are laughing a few minutes later—about something small and stupid—and it feels easy. too easy.

the song currently playing comes to an end and the music shifts. a different song comes on—smooth, familiar, something that's even playing everywhere recently.

you perked up immediately. "oh my god, i love this song."

he stills ever so slightly. it's quick and barely noticeable, but there's a flicker of something across his face. he glances down at the table, then back up at you. "yeah?" he asks, casual.

"yeah," you nod, smiling. "it's so good."

he hums in response, leaning back in his seat like it's just background noise. "not bad."

you narrow your eyes slightly. "not bad?" he shrugs. "it's alright."

you laugh. "you're impossible."

and he doesn't argue. but there's a faint smirk but he doesn't fully hide this time.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

the dinner stretches longer than you expected. because neither of you seem to be in a rush to end it.

by the time the check comes, you reach for it instinctively. because at the cafe, he said he would let you get it this time.

but he's faster. of course he is.

"you don't have to—" you start.

"i know."

"that's not fair," you protest.

"it doesn't have to be," he said.

you sigh, but you're already smiling again.

as he hands the card over, the server pauses. "sorry," the server says, almost hesitant. "are you... are you—namjoon—"

namjoon already knows what's coming. he exhales softly, not annoyed at all, just used to it. "yeah," he says with a polite smile. you blinked.

"sorry- i thought so. i didn't want to assume."

he gives a small, reassuring nod.

"do you think i could-" the server gestures awkwardly. "just like, a quick autograph? my brother and i are huge fans."

you completely froze.

fan?

huge?

he doesn't make it a big deal. "yeah, no problem," he says, like it was normal. like this happens all the time. because it does.

he signs something quickly, hands it back with a polite smile.

"thank you—i appreciate it. you two have a great night," the server said before walking off.

silence settled between you for the brief a second. you were completely staring at him now, trying to control your facial expressions as you processed what just happened.

"you didn't tell me that happens to you," you said.

"i didn't think it mattered," he replied casually.

"well," you said slowly. "what exactly do you do?"

there it was. the question he definitely couldn't avoid this time. he leans back slightly, studying your expression. it was curious, but not intimidated or totally impressed. just curious.

"i told you," he said. "music."

you shook your head. "no, you said behind the scenes."

he huffed a small breath, close to a laugh before he paused. "i produce," he said finally. it was simple and direct—no bragging or boasting.

you blink again. "like... that song?"

a beat passes for a small moment before he nods once. "yeah."

and now, the air between you shifted. because now you knew; he wasn't just some guy who stopped to help you on the side of the road.

and somehow, it almost made things worse. because now, you had to figure out why he's here... with you.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

the air outside feels cooler than before. or maybe it’s just because of the way everything shifted inside.

namjoon pushes the door open for you, stepping slightly to the side to let you walk out first—but as you pass, his hand settles lightly at the small of your back.

guiding. not grabbing or lingering too long. just there, resting on your back. it's subtle, but you can feel the intention seeping through you, especially in the way it instantly sends a shiver up your back.

your steps slow for half a second—not enough for him to comment on, but enough for you to notice yourself.

but he notices too.

you both walk a few steps in the parking lot in silence. it wasn't awkward, it was just both of you recollecting the entire night—including who he really was.

“so,” you say finally, glancing over at him, tone light like nothing’s changed, “you’re kind of a big deal, namjoon.”

he exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “no.”

“that guy literally asked you for an autograph.”

“that happens sometimes.”

you narrow your eyes. “that’s not normal.”

“it is for me,” he says simply. it wasn't cocky or defensive, just the honest truth. it should've been intimidating. but you didn't let it land that way.

you shrugged slightly. "okay. but that still doesn't mean i'm impressed."

there's a pause before he looks at you—really looks this time. and something shifts in his eyes, subtle but sharper. more interested and intrigued by the young woman standing before him.

"good," he said lowly.

you blinked. "good?"

“i’d be a little concerned if you were.”

your lips press together slightly, trying not to smile. “you’re unbelievable.”

“i’ve been told.”

you both reach his car, but neither of you move to get in right away. he leans back against it slightly, arms relaxed and eyes fixed on you.

you cross your arms again. not closed off, just grounding yourself under his gaze. "so you just... make songs people know?"

"sometimes," he said with a shrug.

"ugh, that's such a non-answer."

his lips fought a smile at your remark. "it's an accurate one."

you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you. "you're so annoying."

"but you keep talking to me," he points out.

you finally glance up at him fully, and for a second, the eye contact lingers for a moment too long. it causes you to look away first, pink tinting your cheeks.

and namjoon notices everything.

the way you're holding eye contact a little less now. the way you're slightly more aware of yourself. the way you're trying not to let it change anything. but it doesn’t turn him off—it only pulls him in more.

“you got quiet,” he says.

“i didn’t.”

“you did.”

you look away for a second, then back at him. “i’m just thinking.”

“about?”

you hesitate. “nothing,” you say.

he tilts his head slightly, unconvinced—but he doesn’t push. instead, he steps a little closer. not enough to crowd you, but enough to spark the energy in the space between you even more.

“you’re doing that thing,” he comments quietly, eyes trailing up and down your figure.

your brows knit. “what thing?”

“trying to act like nothing changed.”

your stomach flips—annoyingly and immediate. “because nothing did,” you said.

a pause fills the air. he studies your face, like he’s deciding whether to call it out further. “alright,” he says finally.

you exhale softly. “you’re not going to say anything else?”

“i don’t need to.”

“that’s so—” you cut yourself off, shaking your head.

he watches you, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth now. “say it,” he murmurs.

you look at him, trying not to react to the way his voice dropped slightly. “it’s just… a lot,” you admit.

your answer was too honest for your liking, yet he didn't laugh or dismiss it. "yeah," he said quietly. "it can be."

a beat passed. "but i'm still the same guy you had coffee with," he said softly. and those words land, harder than anything else he's said.

you study him for a second, searching for something—ego, arrogance, anything that would make this easier to categorize.

but you don’t find it. instead, you're only able to find that same calm, steady version of him. the one who stopped his car for you. the one who let you decide whether to text him. the one who didn’t even bother to impress you.

“…okay,” you say finally. and you mean it.

there was a small shift in the air between you, the tension softening— but not totally disappearing.

“so,” he says, pushing off the car slightly, “you still letting me drive you home?”

you raise an eyebrow. “do i have a choice?”

“you always have a choice,” he said. a beat passes. "but i’d prefer if you said yes," he confessed playfully.

you huffs out a quiet laugh. “you’re very subtle.”

“i try.”

and for the second time that night, namjoon opens the passenger door for you. and this time, when you got in, it felt different; reality swirling around you and settling into your head.

the drive back was quieter than the one there. it wasn't awkward or empty—just filled with unspoken words and incredibly thick tension.

his gaze was fixed on the road, but you couldn't ignore the way you caught him glancing over at you multiple times in the corner of your eye. the music is low, humming softly through the speakers before another song comes on.

you glance over at the console, then over at him. "did you make this one too?" you ask, half teasing.

he doesn't look at you right away, a smirk pulling at his lips, leaving a sharp shadow along his jaw. "maybe."

you roll your eyes, fully smiling now. "you're never going to give me a straight answer, are you?"

"not all at once, pretty girl."

there it is again. not just the nickname that sent heat through your spine and in between your legs—but that confident, indirect promise of you sticking around long enough to unlock every thing about him.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you're looking out the window, surrounded by the kind of silence that makes everything feel more noticeable. but you're not really seeing or looking at anything, because you're too aware.

too aware of namjoon. the way he drives—one veiny hand on the wheel, relaxed but precise. the way the scent of his expensive cologne and shampoo made your knees weaken. the way he continues to glance over every now and then, quick, like he’s checking something without making it obvious.

you shift slightly in your seat every time he does.

suddenly, his hand moves from the wheel for just a second—resting briefly against the center console as he adjusts his grip. but through that movement, his large fingers brush lightly against your thigh.

he dragged them ever so softly on your thigh for what felt like forever—but only lasted two seconds—before moving his hand back to the center console. his fingers were barely there, not lingering or deliberate enough to call out. but it wasn't exactly accidental enough to ignore either.

your breath catches for just a second, but he doesn't react or apologize. he doesn't even look at you, and somehow that makes it worse.

you swallow hard, turning your head slightly towards the window again. but now you're even more hyper-aware of the space between you. your heart was doing something very annoying again, and you knew it.

he knew it.

he slows the car as you reach your place, parking smoothly before killing the engine. and just like that, everything went still.

neither of you moved right away. you looked down at your hands, then back up like you were about to say something. but you didn't.

he simply watches you for a second, less teasing in his eyes and more focus. he took in every inch of you, sitting so still and pretty in his car. looking at him like he was still the same guy who jumped your car, not like he was a guy who made every hit song. "you got quiet again," he says softly.

you let out a small breath. "you keep saying that."

"because you keep doing it."

you glance at him. this time, you don't look away immediately. "i'm just thinking."

"dangerous," he murmurs, pulling a small smile from you.

you reach for the door handle. "thanks for dinner," you say, like you're trying to keep it normal.

"yeah," he replies with a soft smile.

you open the door, stepping out thinking that the night is wrapped up. that he'll pull away and let you go. but then, you hear his door open too.

he rounds the front of the car, meeting you halfway up the short path to your door. he took his time not rushing—because he never did.

when you stop in front of your door, you turn to face him. and suddenly, it's close. closer than it's been all night. there wasn't a table, a center console, or any distractions now. just him, towering over you and filling your entire vision with nothing but him. his musky cologne quickly filled your nostrils, throwing your mind off balance.

"you don't have to walk me up," you say quietly, close to a whisper.

"i know," he says. but he doesn't step back.

a long pause fills the air, stretching long enough for the tension to feel intentional. his gaze drops briefly, to your lips—then back up to your eyes.

your breath catches again, softer now. but you were too close for namjoon to not notice it. "are you always this—" you start, then stop.

"this what?" he asks lowly, clenching his jaw ever so slightly at the mere sight of you fumbling with your words in front of him.

you shake your head slightly. "i don't even know."

a faint smile pulls at his mouth. "good." he took another step closer, not enough to trap you, but enough for the warmth of his body to wrap around you.

then, his hand lifts, hesitating for half a second before gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he does it carefully, like he was giving you all the time in the world to pull away. but you didn't.

"you're overthinking again," he murmurs, low eyes scanning every inch of your face.

your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "you keep saying that like it helps."

"it does," he suggests casually.

"how?"

he leans in barely. he doesn't completely close the distance between you, but it was enough to send a bolt of warmth down your body. "because you're still here."

you tilt your head up just a little, before he leans in just a sliver more. and for a second, the moment is right there, sitting heavy in the little distance there was between you.

and then, he stops. just barely, coming to a small still when you could practically feel his breath on you. just enough that it didn't happen.

your eyes flicker across his face, confused, a little breathless. he watches your reaction carefully, low eyes trained onto your every movement.

and suddenly, there's that faint smirk again—but it's softer; barely there and more restrained than usual in a way you almost didn't catch.

"goodnight, doll," he said lowly. "sleep well."

like nothing had almost just happened.

he steps back, ripping the thick air that had just sat between you like a third person. breaking it and leaving you there standing with it.

“you’re—” you start, but you don't even know what to call him.

he tilts his head slightly, licking his lips and averting his gaze down you one last time. “what?”

you exhale half-laugh and half-frustration. “annoying.”

he smiles, dimples pulling at his cheeks. “i know," he says, before turning around and walking back to his car.

from the doorstep, you watch him get in, turn on the engine, and leave. leaving you there with more thoughts than your racing heart could keep up with and a miserable dampness in your panties.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

namjoon's place is quiet again. too quiet.

he tosses his keys down, walks a few steps in, then stops—like his body forgot what he was about to do.

because his mind was entirely somewhere else.

it was still at your door. still immersed into that moment.

he leans back against his kitchen counter, exhaling. he's replaying everything now, like dinner—the way you didn't switch up when you found out what he did. you weren't suddenly impressed or started asking the wrong questions.

you stayed the same. maybe you were a little quieter, a tad bit more aware. but you didn't completely fold.

that absolutely sat under namjoon's skin now. he was completely enamored by you, and didn't want to pull a girl like you into his chaotic world. didn't want you to adjust to him because of who he was, like most people did.

but you didn't. you just took it in, and kept going. you stayed exactly the same—you still called him annoying and told him he wasn't impressive.

he looks at his phone sitting a few feet away. he already gave you control once. he let you decide whether or not to text him, to decide if it was going to go anywhere or not.

but he wasn't going to do that tonight.

him: you always look at people like that or was that just for me?

he sets the phone down, but not far. because you've consumed every inch of his mind again without even trying to. he thinks about the your eyes dropped to his lips, the way you didn't pull away.

his jaw tightened slightly. he knew he was in trouble.

his phone lit up again.

her: like what?

he lets out a quiet breath, a smile pulling at his lips. the way you played it off, like you always did, made him only want more. made him think that maybe he should've kissed you right then and there—should've forgot about being a man and taking his time with you and—

he slowly took in a deep breath through his nose, dragging a hand across his face.

him: like you were about to do something you'd regret

her: don't know if i'd call it regret

namjoon liked that a little too much, licking his lips and leaning back. because now, he knows you felt it too.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

a few days and several text conversations later, namjoon sends you a text on a night he knows you're not working. no question or explanation, just;

joon: be ready at 7

when he picks you up, the air already shifts when you walk outside. it was in the way he looked at you, slow and deliberate, like he wasn't hiding it at all anymore. he takes his time, eyes trailing from your shoes, to the way your skirt falls, the jewelry at your wrist, to your face.

"you always dress like this, doll?" he asks lowly, stepping closer to you.

you raise an eyebrow, ignoring the way the name made your brain feel like mush. "like what?"

"like you knew exactly what you were doing when you picked that."

your lips pressed together slightly, trying not to smile. "maybe i did."

a faint smirk pulled at his lips. "yeah," he agreed. "i think you did."

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

the driver is longer, along the coast again. his tinted windows are cracked, music low with the sky fading into the darkest blue that only happens by the water.

you and namjoon talk, but it's far from that careful, first date way. the conversation flowed between you easily. you interrupted each other, went off on tangents. doubled back to things you both said earlier. like you both have done this together longer than you actually had.

when you arrive, the place is even more secluded than last time. a quiet overlook with soft lights and the ocean extending endlessly in front of you. the sound of waves clashed below in a way that was steady and grounding.

it felt private, like the rest of the world didn't exist here.

you and namjoon sit closer this time without question. dinner stretches and the conversation flows. you don't even discuss all the big things, but it's the way you talk about the small ones that makes it feel different.

you tell him about what hobbies you have, about your job—how it's routine, how people underestimate it, and how sometimes you feel stuck. and he doesn't brush it off or give you empty encouragement like most people did.

"you're not stuck," he corrected you firmly.

you scoff every is slightly. "that's easy for you to say."

"it's not about me," he replies softly. "you just need to find what you want."

you pout slightly in a way that makes his heart falter. "and you have?"

he pauses for half a second. "yeah." that same confidence remained in his tone, and for a second it felt like he might have been talking about something else.

at some point, his hand settles at the back of your chair. but this time, it stays. it wasn't touching you directly, but it was close enough to make you aware of it. aware of him.

you shift slightly and his slender fingers brush at your shoulders. they rest there for a second longer than necessary before pulling back. his warmth and his actions sent an unbearable heat between your legs.

after dinner, you both step away from the table, walking along the edge of the overlook. the night air is cooler now, ocean breeze slipping through you. you and him walk a little closer than before, shoulders lightly brushing with every few steps.

you wrapped your arms around you slightly, and his jacket is already around your shoulders before you can say anything.

you glance back at him, stopping in your steps to look at him properly. "you know... you're very sure of yourself."

"that bothers you?"

"no," you admit honestly. "it's just—different."

he pauses for a small moment. "from what you're used to?" he asks.

you nod slightly. he studies you for a second. "you're trying to figure out how old i am again."

your eyes widen slightly. "i'm not—"

"you are."

you exhale. "okay, maybe a little."

he lets your confession sit in the air before he nods slightly toward a couple walking past you two—a generation older than you, quieter, and settled. "you think i'm closer to them, or closer to you?" he asks.

you look back at the couple, then back at him. you really look at him, thinking about the way he carries himself. the way he speaks. the way he doesn't rush anything.

your expression shifts. "...okay," you say slowly. "how old are you?"

he pauses for longer than just a few seconds. "thirty-three," he answers finally.

you can't help but blink. once. twice. "...really?"

"yeah."

you study him again, like the answer didn't quite align with what you were seeing. "you don't look thirty-three."

"i know," he answered casually.

"that's kind of unfair," you said playfully.

he smiled softly. "i've heard that."

a quiet beat passes as namjoon watches you carefully, curiously watching your expression.

you shrug slightly. "okay."

he tilts his head. "that's all?"

"what?" you ask. "were you expecting something else?"

"most people... adjust," he stated.

you look at him deeply, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "well i'm not most people."

he steps closer, lightly closing the space between you. his scent filled your head once again, making your breath catch.

"yeah," he said lowly. "i noticed."

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

later, when you leave the restaurant together, you don't rush out. you never do.

namjoon walks slightly behind you first as you both headed towards the entrance, one hand finding its way onto the small of your back. it became natural now, something you didn't react to—externally, at least.

his hand was there, guiding you carefully down the steps.

two hostesses near the front glance up. then they glance at namjoon. then to you, then back at him.

a quick look exchanged between them followed by a few whispers and positive smiles. he catches it immediately. of course he does.

namjoon doesn’t look directly at them—he doesn’t acknowledge it—but there’s the faintest change in his expression. then his hand presses just slightly firmer at your back.

a quiet, almost instinctive gesture. not to show off. just to keep you close—and slightly focus the attention on you.

you don't notice the whispers, but you do notice the presence of his hand grow warmer. "what?" you ask, glancing back at him.

"nothing," he says easily.

the lights from the restaurant glowed behind you, the cool night air and a soft breeze coming off the water hitting you all at once.

there's a small set of marble steps leading down towards the parking area. you start down them without thinking—mind entirely captured by namjoon—and suddenly your heel catches slightly.

it's quick—barely a stumble, but it's enough to throw you off balance slightly. his large hands instantly find their way to your waist firmly, tightening his grip and steadying you before you could even process anything.

"careful, baby," he murmurs, low and close. the name slipping out like it had always belonged there.

you freeze for half a second, breath catching slightly before you steady yourself, hand instinctively brushing against his arm.

"I'm fine," you say, a little too quickly, beginning to continue a careful ascend down the steps and ignoring the heat on your cheeks.

namjoon however, doesn't move his hands right away. they linger on your waist a second longer than necessary, making sure you're fully balanced. "i know," he says calmly.

you look up at him, trying to play it off. "you don't have to—"

"i know," he cuts in softly.

and when you reach the bottom of the steps, his hand doesn't leave your back. it stays there, steady, guiding you towards his car like you're already part of his space.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

the drive back is quiet, the low vibration of the music and the city lights and palm trees flickering past practically lulling you to sleep.

and namjoon's presence, of course.

his large hand rested on the wheel, the other on the center console. close enough. by the minute, you swear it continues to get closer.

"tell me about him," namjoon says suddenly, the deep baritone of his voice making your thighs press together slightly.

you frown slightly from confusion. "about who?"

"your ex."

it catches you off guard. "...why?"

he shrugs lightly, sharp eyes still on the road. "i'm curious."

you hesitate before sighing. "he was..." you trailed off, trying to find the right word. "lazy."

half a second passed. "immature," you added. "didn't really pay attention to me unless it was convenient."

and as you talk, namjoon's jaw tightens slightly. it's subtle and controlled in a way you don't notice, but it's there.

"he just-" you shook your head slightly, looking out the window. "i don't know. it felt like I was always asking for the bare minimum."

for a long second, silence fills the car. namjoon's fingers tap once against the console. then, they shift. his hand moves unhurriedly, eventually finding its way to rest against your thigh, making a sharp bolt of warmth shoot down your body.

"yeah," he says finally, voice low and rough. "that sounds about right."

you glance at him. "what does that mean?"

he paused for a second. "guys your age," he continues, calm but edged with something sharper now. "they don't know what to do with a woman like you."

your stomach flips in a way that is impossible to ignore. "and you do?" you ask teasingly, trying to keep your tone steady.

his thumb shifts slightly against your thigh slightly. butterflies erupted in your stomach and your thighs shifted in a way you couldn't help, trying to disregard the heat between your legs.

"i wouldn't ignore you," he says simply.

the air in car seems to shift as you swallow hard, glancing out the window before looking back at him. "you barely know me."

"i know enough," he answers.

your breath catches slightly. namjoon's hand stays sat on your thigh steadily, like he knows exactly what it's doing to you.

"and i definitely wouldn't have you asking for anything," he adds. his words land deeper than they should, etching themselves into the back of your mind without asking.

you let out a quiet, almost nervous laugh. "you're very confident."

"i'm honest," he says. he pauses for a moment. then, his voice drops just a little—"big difference."

you look at him again, thoroughly scanning his face this time. "you always talk like that?" you ask.

"only when i mean it."

another silence settles between you, this time sitting thick; heavy with everything both of you haven't said. his hand finally shifts, but not away from you. it only slides higher along your thigh before settling again.

"relax, doll," he murmurs softly, voice low and deep.

you exhale slowly, trying to steady yourself. "you're doing that on purpose."

"doing what?"

you shake your head slightly. "you know exactly what."

a faint smirk pulls at his lips. "yeah," he answers. "i do."

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

suddenly, the rest of the drive feels too short.

namjoon pulls to your curb, parking swiftly with one hand before cutting the engine. silence fills the space, neither of you reaching for the door immediately.

you look down at your hands, then back up, like you're about to say something—but the words don't come as easily now. because everything, from the restaurant, the drive is still sitting in between you. his hand, his voice. doll.

"you got quiet again," he says softly.

you let out a small breath. "you make it hard not to."

he stills ever so slightly, like your words had pulled something out of him. "do i?" he asks.

you look at him, holding his intense gaze this time. "yeah."

he pauses for longer than normal, eventually moving his hand before his mouth. he starts slow—not to your thigh this time—but higher. his fingers lift, brushing lightly along your jaw. just the tips, tracing the line like he needed to memorize it.

your breath catches immediately, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you seemingly couldn't look away from his face. he tilts his head slightly, watching your reaction closely.

"you always look like this when you're thinking?" he murmurs.

your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "like what?"

his thumb lingers beneath just beneath your chin for just a second. then it shifts slightly, guiding your face just enough so that you're looking directly at him and nothing else.

"like you're trying to figure out if this is a good idea," he says.

your heart practically stumbles. because he absolutely was right. "and?" you ask quietly.

a small smirk pulls at his mouth. but this one was softer, like it was more certainty than teasing. "i think you already decided," he murmurs. his gaze drops briefly, down to your lips, then back up again. this time, he doesn't even try to hide it.

"you're dangerous, you know that?" you say, barely above a whisper.

he leans in slightly, his scent taking over your lungs. "yeah?"

your breath is uneven now. "yeah."

his gaze drifts again, over your face, slower this time. fully taking you in. "you still thinking about the age thing?" he asks.

"no," you respond, holding the burning eye contact.

he studies you for half a second, like he's deciding if you're telling the truth. then, he exhales quietly, almost amusedly. "yeah," he says. "didn't think you would."

his hand lifts from your chin before resting lightly at your waist, thumb pressing just slightly before easing.

"probably better for you," he adds, voicer lower now, teasing but grounded in something real and deep, "if you didn't get used to someone like me."

your stomach flips instantly. "who says i'm getting used to you?" you shoot back, trying to play it off.

a smile tugs at his lips. "doll," he murmurs, softer and closer, the warmth of his breath hitting your neck. "you're already here."

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

a few days later, namjoon sends you an address located in the corner of a private street in LA telling you to meet him there. telling you that he wanted to show you something.

a building tucked slightly off the main road, close enough to the water that the air already feels different when you step out of the car.

you hesitate for a half a second before going in. not nervous, but just a little too aware of what you were walking into. with a few instructed taps on the door buzzer, you were let in.

inside, the hallway light is dim, soft lights lining the walls that were decorated with award cases, album posters, and framed vinyls. the floors were sleek and bass echoed through the walls.

you followed the sound the sound down the hallway, until you find a studio door that's slightly open. the gold plate on it reading, "kim namjoon" then below it, "head executive producer."

you exhale softly, heart slightly stopping at that and swallowing a little too hard before you push it gently, and that's when you see him.

sitting at the main console, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting near the soundboard. one hand adjusting a dial, the other resting against his chin like he's listening too closely.

he was so immersed that he hadn't noticed you yet.

the room was lowly lit—colored LEDS instead of overhead lights, the glow from the equipment reflecting softly against his face.

and there's something about him like this—focused, quiet, and completely in his element—that hits differently, making your stomach twist into a knot.

his sleeves are pushed up again, glistening watch catching the light as he moves his hand. a chain rests below his collar, barely visible, but sparkling in the light.

everything about him is so simple, but it fits him all too well. you don't mean to stare, but you definitely do.

and then, like he felt it—namjoon finally glances up. your eyes immediately meet, and you swear you felt a spark flash through your body.

for a split second, he doesn't say anything. he just looks at you, gaze taking you in deliberately.

then, he licks his lips so lightly you almost don't catch it. "you just going to stand there," he says, voice low and soft. "or are you coming in?"

you blink, snapping out of your trance slightly. "i-i didn't want to interrupt."

"you didn't," he replies easily. but his eyes linger on you for a second longer, almost like he knew you were watching him.

you step inside, softly closing the door behind you. the white lighting from the hallway had disappeared now, fully engulfing you into his world—his studio, his creative space—the place where he made every hit even possible. the big room suddenly felt smaller now, more private.

you look around, taking it all in. the walls are boarded with soundproof panels, and large speakers are placed around the sleek equipment. there's two chairs, a beanbag, and couch with folders of music sheets and lyrics scattered on the floor and on counter tops. "this is... really nice."

"mm," he hums, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs slightly. "it works."

you glance at him. "you say everything like that."

"like what?"

"like it's not a big deal."

a faint smirk. "it's not."

you roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. he gestures towards the seat next to him. "come here." it wasn't a question.

you walk over, sitting beside him—closer than expected, immediately greeted by his warmth and the musk of his cologne.

he turns towards the console, grabbing a pair of high-end headphones. "listen to this," he says. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear before carefully placing them over your head.

music plays—smooth and layered. it had no lyrics, but it was already catchy. you hummed in delight. "it's really good," you said softly, gently taking the headphones off.

"i know," he replies casually.

you laugh. "you're insufferable."

he glances at you, a smirk forming. "you're still here though."

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

after a few minutes of namjoon showing you some buttons, he glances at you. "you want to try something?" you look at him, a bit hesitant. "like what?"

he shifts slightly, turning your chair just enough so that your angled more towards the board. "come on," he says, nodding towards the controls. "i'll show you."

"...i feel like i'm going to mess something up," you say.

"you won't."

"how do you know?" he leans in slightly, his breath hitting your neck ever so slightly. "because i'm right here."

your stomach flips again. he reaches around you slightly, one hand bracing lightly against the edge of the console near you, the other guiding your hand toward a dial.

“turn this,” he says, voice lower now, near your ear.

you try to focus. you really do. but namjoon is close. too close. his warmth spilling all over you, hitting you in all the places that made your thighs pull closer together.

you turn the dial slowly—and immediately the sound distorts in a ridiculous way. you both pause.

"...was that supposed to happen?" you ask.

he stares at the board for a second before a short laugh escapes him, dimples tugging at his cheeks. "no," he says.

you burst out laughing. "i told you!"

he shakes his head with another laugh, reaching forward to fix it, his arm brushing yours again. "you didn't break it," he says. "relax."

"i definitely did something."

"you did," he replies with a smile. "just not what i said."

you laugh again, softer this time.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

you're standing now, not sitting anymore.

because namjoon told you to.

“stand here,” he said, guiding you lightly by the waist until you were in front of the soundboard. no asking, just placing you there. you stiffened under his touch that sent a light shock through you.

"relax, doll," he murmurs behind you. the deep baritone of his voice hitting a little too close.

you exhale slowly, trying to focus on the board in front of you—but it's hard when you can feel him right behind you. he steps in closer, practically pressing you together.

one hand reaches around you, bracing against the console. the other finds yours, fingers sliding over yours, adjusting your grip on one of the controls. "not like that," he says, low. "too quick."

"i'm not doing anything fast," you defend weakly, trying your best to sound steady.

you hear a quiet, almost amused exhale behind you. "yeah?" he murmurs deeply.

his chest brushes lightly against your back as he leans in closer, guiding your hand again—slower this time. "you rush when you're nervous."

"i'm not nervous."

"mm," he hums, unconvinced. his hand tightens slightly over yours, turning the dial with you. the sound shifts, smoother this time. "like that," he says.

but he doesn't move away, not even a little bit. you swallow, your body hyper-aware of every point of contact. his hand over yours, his chest behind you, his voice vibrating your ear. and you definitely tried to ignore something hard resting against your ass.

"you do this with everyone?" you ask.

"no," he answered simply.

at to that, your heart stumbled. his hand left yours, but only came to settle at your waist, firm and steady. in his grip he turned you slightly—not fully, but enough to turn your attention away from the board and onto him. "you're distracted again," he murmured.

you let out a soft breath. "you keep saying that like it's my fault."

a smirk pulls at his lips, one that you can practically hear in his voice. "doll," he says lowly, "you haven't been focused since you walked in."

your stomach flips as you turn your head slightly, giving just enough space to look back at him—but it's a mistake. because he's already looking at you, his face much closer than expected and barely any space left between you now.

"you always get like this?" he asks softly.

"like what?"

his gaze drops slowly, then back up again. "quiet." he pauses. "...when you feel something."

your breath catches. "you act like you know me," you say.

"i do," he replies casually. those words shouldn't hit you as hard as they do, but they do anyway—causing your heart to leap.

he shifts you fully this time, making you fully face him as his large hands still rested at your waist, thumbs pressing in ever so slightly.

"or maybe," he adds, voice quieter now. "you're just not used to someone who pays attention."

your chest rises slowly. "and you do?"

"to you?" he asks quietly, something flickering across his eyes. "of course i do."

a small pause. "i wouldn't ignore you," he mutters in your ear, breath hot down your neck in a way that makes your hairs stand up. his hand tightens slightly against you. "not like they did."

his words land, striking the base of your heart deeply. "and i definitely wouldn't have you guessing where you stand."

your breath is uneven now, but you can't seem to look away. "confident," you murmur.

"experienced," he corrects simply. his voice and his head dips lower just slightly—"difference is...i know how to treat a woman like you properly."

and suddenly the last thread holding you steady is already gone. you exhale softy, almost a laugh, but not quite. "you always talk like this?"

"only when i mean it."

silence fills the space around you, heavy and close. one of his hands lifts from your waist slowly before coming to your jaw and tracing along it deliberately, just like he did before.

his thumb sits at your chin, tilting your face up just slightly. it takes everything in you for your knees to not buckle right then and there, taking in his low, piercing gaze.

"you keep looking at me like that," you whisper.

"like what, hm?" he asks, voice low as he tilts his head lower, leaving little space between your noses. you felt like your whole world was spinning, trying to ground yourself properly without clinging onto him.

"like you're about to do something."

he pauses for a split second, licking his lips while his eyes practically swirled with darkness. then—low and certain—"i am."

and this time, namjoon doesn't stop himself. he leans in, fully closing the last bit of distance between you, crashing his lips onto yours. it's immediate—but not rushed. he kisses you slow, deep, like he's been holding it back for too long and finally had decided he was done.

you respond quickly, completely melting under the contact and moving your lips into his. your breath catches against his, one hand instinctively finding one of his big arms, while the other gripped on his shirt to steady yourself— because it hits you all at once.

the way he pulls you closer against him, one of his hands firmly settled at your waist while the other holds your head possessively, gently tilting your head at an angle that allowed him to kiss you deeper.

you lean into him without thinking—and he feels it, of course. he hooks his fingers around the belt loop of your denim skirt, pulling you even closer. the kiss deepens—but it isn't overwhelming. it's certain, like he wanted to take his time with his lips against yours.

your fingers tightened against him, causing him to exhale quietly against your lips, like he had been waiting for that exact response from you.

when you both pull back, you barely move an inch. foreheads close, breath uneven, and neither of you pulling away. his hands remain at your waist, yours still on him.

and after a second of catching your breath—namjoon leans in again. not because he's testing it anymore, but because he wants it—no, he needs it again. and you seem to meet him there just as fast.

his lips capture yours for the second time that night, practically taking your breath with him. your thighs press together slightly as you kiss him back, your hand sliding higher along his arm, gripping his bicep and pulling him closer without even realizing it.

his grip tightens slightly. "don't start something you can't finish, doll..." he murmurs quietly against your lips, voice rough.

the kiss suddenly shifts, not messy or rushed—but hungry. namjoon's hand slid shamelessly down your waist and onto your ass, sliding up and down its curve like it was already his.

that pulled a gasp out of you, and he saw it as the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. you allow him, opening your mouth more to let him further explore it with his tongue. your lips practically molded together, saliva mixing as he swirled his tongue around yours.

"look at you..." he mutters, barely pulling back, his thumb brushing your jaw again. "so responsive."

your stomach flips more times than you can count. "don't—" you start, breath uneven, but you can't even finish the sentence before you feel dampness between your legs.

"don't what, baby?" he asks lowly, smirking faintly against your lips. "don't notice you?" he kisses you again before you can answer. his hand slides up from your ass, up your waist to your side—slower and more deliberate, before settling it there again, like he's grounding you there with him.

your grip on him tightens, deepening the kiss without intending to. "doll..." he murmurs, quietly now like it's a warning.

but he doesn't stop, and you most certainly don't want him to. all of a sudden namjoon is moving, guiding you back without breaking the kiss, step by step, until the back of your legs hit the couch.

you exhale softly in surprise—before you're sitting and he is too, pulling you with him. now, you find yourself on his lap—straddled on top of him with his hands firmly gripping your thighs and with everything much closer.

your hands find his broad shoulders, this time holding onto him like you desperately need to steady yourself, leaning into him once more. and namjoon notices, like he always does.

a low exhale leaves him, almost like a quiet laugh. "not pulling away anymore, are you, baby?" he murmurs, brushing his lips along your jaw slowly while his big palms drag up and down your thighs.

his plush lips trace the line of your jaw, littering soft kisses and your head tilts slightly to give him space without even thinking about it. "good," he praises quietly against your skin, lips trailing their way down your neck.

as he presses soft kisses along your neck, one of his hands presses a little firmer into your thigh, keeping you against him as the other rested gently at your neck—not enough to put pressure—but enough for your mind to go blank and make your thighs noticeably shift.

your breath hitches just above him, and his other hand soothes slowly against your thigh to steady you. "you have no idea..." he murmurs, lightly digging his teeth into your skin, making you shudder. "how hard i was trying to take my time with you."

your fingers tighten against him, struggling to ignore the unbearable ache in your core. "then why aren't you?" you manage softly, voice weaker than usual, knowing you didn't want that.

he paused for a moment, the warmth of his breath tingling down your neck and through your spine. his voice comes lower this time, but steadier. "because you stopped me from wanting to."

he pulls back just enough to look at you again, dark and low eyes trailing every inch of your face. his hand comes up, brushing your hair behind your ear slowly, slower than before.

"you're trouble, princess," he says lowly, another nickname rolling off his tongue with ease. "but i like it."

your breath is still uneven, your heart racing faster than your mind—but you don't look away. "good," you murmur.

namjoon's jaw tightens slightly at that—not in frustration, but in complete restraint. what's left of it, at least.

his hand that rested along your neck slid up, tilting your chin upwards with his thumb once again, making sure that you were really looking at him. "you sure about this, doll?" he asks lowly.

you nod without hesitation. "yes."

a small pause fills the thick, small space between you, but his smoldering gaze doesn't leave yours. his gentle hold on your jaw tightens ever so slightly—not to harm you, but to ground you into the moment. "you understand...i'm not the kind of man you forget after this."

your breath catches, but you don't pull back. "i know," you say softly, holding his gaze.

his hands return to your waist, firmer this time, pulling you just slightly closer to him—close enough that space barely existed anymore. "yeah..." he murmured, his thumb tracing lightly along your skin. "then stay with me."

you nearly shuddered from his words, the warmth of his body on yours surrounding you and making your skin tingle. "i will," you nearly whispered, praying that he couldn't feel the dampness between your legs at the thought of never leaving his side.

"good," he grunted in your ear, hot breath spilling down your neck. he pulled back just slightly before closing the space between you once again, tilting your head with his thumb and pulling your lips in with his unhurriedly.

you immediately softened into him as you moved your lips together, your chest immediately becoming flush against his and practically folding underneath his touch. his hands left your waist, finding their grip lower and onto your ass, holding you steadily against him while his tongue explored you once more.

his lips left yours to litter your neck with kisses—sloppy and open-mouthed this time, sucking harder and marking a trail of red marks down to your collarbone. you whimpered with every suck, thighs noticeably shifting against his legs.

namjoon's slender fingers found their way underneath your top, sliding it up slowly—like he was waiting for you to stop him—but you never did. you only complied, lifting your arms up. and in one swift motion, your top was off, and his lips already found themselves on your cleavage.

"so beautiful, baby," he murmured into your skin, tongue lightly lapping against the mark he had just made on top of your breast.

suddenly you felt his big palms on your waist once again before he manhandled you—lifting you up and lying you gently across the couch before his large figure quickly filled your vision and filling up your entire view.

all you could see in the ambient light of his studio was his broad shoulders, his low, piercing eyes, and glimmering chain now hanging in front of your face before he captured your lips again. you practically moaned into it, fingers gripping tightly into his shirt like you needed more.

"fuck," he murmured against you between kisses, intertwining his long fingers with yours, dragging your palm deliberately up his chest. your hands moved before your mind, tugging him closer by his shirt and immediately fumbling with the buttons.

he smirked, large hands moving to help you take it off. once he tossed it somewhere in the room, your hands danced around his body greedily, trailing over his abs, from his chiseled chest and to his swell back.

"should be taking you to my house like a fuckin' man. should fuck you in my bed slow 'n proper. but i've lost my patience with you, doll," he breathed lowly, licking his lips with hunger.

you could only bring yourself to whimper, as namjoon's big palm creeped around your thigh, trailing every so slowly inwards before stopping. your legs couldn't help but twitch helplessly underneath his touch, causing him to let out an amused breath of air.

"but you don't want that, do you?" he asked lowly in your ear, the desire in his voice making your core ache with unbearable need. his hands trailed closer to your heat, dragging his fingers leisurely against your inner thigh.

you shook your head desperately, but that wasn't enough for him. his fingers hooked around your skirt. "wanna hear you use that pretty mouth of yours, baby."

"i—yes—" you blurted breathlessly, struggling to find the words. "i want it—want you. here, joonie. right now."

his cock strained even harder against his pants. "good girl," he muttered before pulling your skirt down. when it was disregarded, namjoon's hands found your thighs again and you suddenly felt his long fingers trace against slowly against your sopping heat barely shielded by your lacy thong, sending a shiver down your entire body.

"wet for me already and i haven't even started with you," he smirked, finally hooking your panties to the side and letting your soaking core be hit by the cold air. your thighs instinctively went to clamp shut, but he quickly stopped them with his big hands.

"so sensitive, doll," he murmured, placing one big thumb just above your clit while the other fingers outlined your inner thigh. "guys your age don't take their time like this, do they?"

you shook your head immediately, whining out before his fingers glided up slowly against your wetness, his index finger swiping in between your folds. his thumb rubbed your clit in a long circle, pulling out a desperate whine out of your mouth.

finally, he pushed one long finger in between your folds, sliding into your hole that sucked him in, your wetness gushing his fingers. you whined loudly as he dragged it along your walls before plunging back in.

namjoon closed the distance between your faces, capturing your lips in with his and sucking on your bottom lip as he inserted another finger, thrusting into you at a steady pace while his thumb remained on your clit.

when he pulled away, it was only to align his face at your entrance. his hand firmly gripped onto your thighs, holding you in place. his fingers slowed inside of you as his nose came close to your core, the warmth of his breath directly hitting your pussy and making you twitch underneath him.

a small smirk pulled at his lips before he poked his tongue out, licking a light, gentle stripe against your folds. "mm, taste so sweet, baby." you reacted immediately, thighs clenching around his head in a way he enjoyed a bit too much, his free hand wrapping around your leg firmly as he lapped delicately at your entrance.

you moaned his name, legs finally relaxing under his grip as he took his time with soaking your taste on his tongue. namjoon couldn't help but smirk against your folds, his plump lips completely enveloping your pussy into his mouth and sucking your wetness in hungrily.

it wasn't long before you felt his tongue greedily prying through your entrance, crying out in breathless moans. his two fingers stretched open your walls to allow more room for him to explore you with his tongue.

namjoon was absolutely driving you over the edge—his tongue plunged through your tight walls like no other, slender fingers stroking your insides while his thumb massaged your clit vigorously. he ate at you like he had starved for this—your back immediately curving off of the couch as you felt unbearable pressure twine into your stomach.

"that's it, doll," he cooed against your folds, his nose sitting on top of your clit. then, his voice dropped lower—"cum for me."

and so you did—completely letting go as your first orgasm tore through you like lightning. your legs shook around namjoon's head, his free hand rubbing against your thigh gently while his two fingers slowed inside of you. his tongue moved against your folds slowly, taking in every last drop of your release between his lips.

when your body was finally at ease from the state of euphoria he took you to, namjoon trailed kisses from your stomach and up, his hands gently caressing your sides.

"look at you taking me so good," he murmured between kisses, lips on yours now. "think you're ready for my cock, hm, baby?"

you nodded quickly, practically squirming beneath him. "yes joon—need it so bad." your fingers found his belt loop—his large hands finding yours immediately, helping you take off his pants entirely.

it was then when you saw the largest imprint strained tightly against his boxers, making you swallow hard without even realizing. his fingers looped around the hem, taking them off in a swift motion as he stood up.

his cock sprung out in front of you—thick, long, and angry with pre-cum glistening at the end. you sat up straight, jaw slightly slack without even realizing. namjoon's lips fought a smirk as he hovered over you, large shoulders swell and thick member curving up.

his low eyes looked down at you, clouded with darkness. he wrapped his large hand around the thick base of his cock, stroking slightly while taking in the sight of you in front of him.

"fuck," he grunted, "don't got any condoms, baby." "it's okay, joon," you replied softly.

"you sure, doll?" he asked, tracing his fingers lightly against your jaw, tilting your head to look up at him fully.

you nodded. "wanna feel all of you," you said almost shyly.

"have no clue what you're doing to me," he responded lowly, almost to himself. then namjoon leaned down, grabbing your hips and lifting you up swiftly. you yelped in surprise as he sat down, bringing you back on top of his lap. only this time, you were skin to skin, your arousal miserably smearing onto his legs.

but he didn't seem to care. his large hands rubbed softly down your sides as he licked his lips. "you're so small, baby," he muttered in your ear, his thumb pressing into the side of your hip. "might break you."

"that's okay," you whispered, peering up at him with big, needy eyes.

"yeah?" he asked darkly, like your response had just snapped the last bit of restraint left in him. he held onto your hips firmly as he pulled you up, aligning your entrance with his cock. "gonna ruin you then, baby."

your hands gripped onto his broad shoulders immediately to steady yourself, his fat tip pushing through your folds and breaking into your tight entrance. you moaned out in a mix of pleasure and pain, feeling every inch of his width pushing slowly into your walls as you sunk down fully on his lap.

his grasp on you became tighter as he guided you further down, hissing in pleasure as he split you open widely with his cock. your eyes shut tight as your inner thighs kissed his. slowly, the tip of his member found the back of your walls, your head throwing back from the overwhelming stretch.

namjoon held you against him firmly, allow you to fully adjust to his length before he captured your lips into a kiss. "it's okay, doll," he murmured against you. "you're taking me so well."

after a minute of soft, warm coos in your ear—namjoon began to slide you up and down his vast length slowly with his large hands, emitting a loud whine from your lips. soon, he picked his pace, his cock repeatedly kissing the deepest part of your hole. "good baby... that's it," he praised lowly.

your head was filled with nothing but the thought of you, him, and his fat cock curving up inside of you and exploring your walls. he took you to a pure state of euphoria as he thrusted up in you. his hold was firm on you as he bounced you up and down his cock.

your eyes fluttered at your view, melting under his piercing gaze— his jaw tightened in pleasure and concentration, low eyes scanning your fucked-out expression hungrily. you nearly screamed in pleasure.

"such a good girl for me," he grunted in your ear, one large palm trailing up your sides before resting along your neck. his fingers wrapped around it slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to apply pressure that made your mind dizzy and your pussy clench his member tightly.

his other hand came firmer around your waist before suddenly you were moving—your head being guided back down on the couch while your body was being manhandled by namjoon while he kept his cock buried deep inside of you. one hand settled beside your head while the other remained grazing your throat lightly.

once you both fully adjusted to the new position, namjoon continued to thrust in you, roaming your pussy at an entirely new angle. your wetness gushed around his cock sloppily, filling the room with lewd slapping noises. "you fit around me so well, doll," he muttered breathlessly, breath shooting down your spine as he littered messy kisses along your neck.

his hand traveled from your throat down to your thighs, finding your clit and rubbing it softly. you were a moaning mess beneath him as he fucked you relentlessly now, tip slapping messily against the spongiest part of your walls, making your mind go blank.

his palm found its way around your thigh, lifting it above his shoulder. he closed the distance between you two, cock greedily marking a place inside your hole in a way no one had ever done before as his chest pressed against yours.

he rutted his length inside of you, making your eyes roll back and the couch move back and forth with every movement. "gonna fill you up tonight, doll. gonna make you mine," he murmured. "what do you think, baby?"

you could only moan in response, lost in the feeling of his cock buried so deeply inside of you. "nuh uh," namjoon ticked lowly, his thrusts becoming brutal. "wanna hear that pretty voice of yours, baby."

"mmph—yes~ make me yours, joon," you whined breathlessly.

you cried out—heat coiling unbearably in your stomach, pure bliss clouding your mind as namjoon picked up his pace, feeling your walls hugging him in tightly. "yeah... right where you belong baby," he muttered. "taking me so good like this."

your second orgasm of the night hit you even harder this time—ripping through you like a monstrous ocean wave. he fucked you through your high, your legs shaking violently against him; release spilling all over his cock as you moaned out his name breathlessly.

"that's it, baby," he grunted lowly as he made his final, slower thrusts, burying himself inside you as deep as possible before releasing his hot seed into your walls. "come on my dick, pretty girl."

your vision was practically filled with stars as your body became limp under his grasp. he milked his cock deep in your walls before he pulled out with a sharp hiss, laying down beside you—lengthy body half on the couch and half off of it.

you both laid there next to each other breathless, chests moving up and down in sync as you processed what had just happened.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

suddenly, the studio is quiet again.

it wasn't completely silent—just the low hum of equipment filling the room with one of his tracks still looping quietly in the background.

clothes half-on, curled against him on the couch with his large arm around your waist, holding you close against his chest like he had no intention of letting you drift away.

for awhile, neither of you say anything. namjoon's fingers moved slowly against your side, absentmindedly tracing soft patterns into your skin. the movement only grounded you into him more.

then finally, a low exhale left namjoon's lips. "c'mere," he murmurs softly, even though you were already pressed against him. his big hands slid higher along your back, pulling you in even closer anyway until your head was resting properly against his chest.

it only made your cheeks flush a bright red—the moment feeling possessive in a way that was ever so gentle. like he just needed to make sure you were still there. now, you can hear his heartbeat. it thumps steadily now against his large chest.

"you okay?" he asks quietly.

you nod against him. "yeah," you reply softly.

then his lips brush lightly against the top of your head, placing a soft kiss that lingers. "good," he murmurs.

something about the way he said it made warmth spread through your chest again. his hand settles at your waist once more, thumb brushing lightly beneath the fabric of your top. "you still overthinking?" he asks after a minute.

you let out a small laugh against his chest. "maybe a little."

a quiet hum leaves him. "don't."

you tilt your head slightly to look at him. his expression is softer now. his gaze still intense—because he always looks intense when looking at you—but softer. "you regret it?" he asks gently.

you shook your head immediately. "no," you replied, meaning it with everything in your chest.

at your words, something in namjoon's expressions shifts. it wasn't surprise, it was only something deeper. his hand moves to your jaw, thumb brushing slowly along your cheek.

"good," he says again, quieter this time. then, like his confidence had just made a return—"would've been a problem if you did."

you laugh softly, cheeks warming again. "you're crazy, joon."

"for you?" he murmurs. "starting to think maybe."

your stomach flips all over again. namjoon studies you for a second, gaze moving slowly across your face like he's memorizing it. like he still can't believe that you're here. with him, and in his arms.

his hand slides along your thigh gently. this time, it isn't teasing. instead, it feels familiar and warm. "come back to my place," he says quietly.

you hesitate for maybe half a second, but only because your heart is racing faster than your mind. his thumb brushes lightly against your leg. "you don't have to leave, doll," he murmurs.

"you sure?" you ask quietly. because in your past, once guys were done, they were done with your presence for the night—or even forever.

"of course," he says. then, a faint smile touches his mouth, voice dropping a little. "i'm not doing being around you."

and it only seemed that you weren't exactly done being around him either.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

two months later, being with namjoon feels easy. and it wasn't because he was simple. it was the exact opposite.

he's still intense, but still composed. he still walks through every room like he owns it without needing attention from anyone in it. but with you? he's soft in all the places it matters.

namjoon becomes part of your life so naturally it almost scares you sometimes.

mornings tangled up in his expensive sheets while sunlight pours through the massive windows of his house that overlooks the city. his large hand resting on your waist while he scrolls through emails lazily with the other. his bright smile on display every time he made you laugh or blush.

in his free time, he'd show up to your work with your favorite dinner meal. sometimes, he'd sit at a table in your section and order food just to be able to talk to you any chance you'd get.

afternoons where he pulls you into his lap while he's working on music. he'd barely let you sit more than a foot away from him before he was already touching you again somehow.

his fingers through your hair, your legs draped over his. his mouth against your temple when he quietly tells someone important over the phone that he'll "call back later."

and of course, he spoils you constantly. it wasn't in a loud way either. it was more like taking care of you and putting a smile on your face had just become his instinct.

he buys you things you casually mention liking once. he leaves designer bags on the bed like it's nothing. he'd get annoyed when you'd check price tags. he would sneakily place things in your basket at sephora as he trailed behind you, filling it up with everything you simply picked up and looked at.

you even tried to avoid going shopping with him sometimes because you never happened to pay for anything again.

"doll," he murmured one night, pulling your back against his chest, wrapping his large arms around you while you stared at a pair of brand new, christian louboutin red bottoms that he bought you. "if you like them, they're yours. stop thinking so hard."

and god, he hated it when you worked too much. he hated it even more when work stressed you out.

"you should call out," he tells you one morning, voice rough from sleep while you're leaving his bed for work.

you laugh softly. "some of us have to work, joonie."

his buff arms loop around your waist, pulling you back into the mattress effortlessly. "i know," he murmurs against your neck, nuzzling his nose into your warmth. "that's the problem."

eventually, namjoon starts saying it more seriously.

"quit," he says.

you look at him like he's insane every time. "be serious, joon."

"i am serious."

his hands slide along your thighs as you stand between his knees while he sits at the edge of the bed, looking up at you with that same, calm certainty he’s always had.

“i’ll give you whatever you need,” he says simply. “why are you stressing yourself out when you don’t have to?”

and the craziest part of it all to you, was that he meant it entirely. it wasn't because he wanted control—it was because taking care of you pulled at his dimples and his heart more than anything else ever had.

somewhere along the way, you became each other's favorite part of life. people notice too and eventually, the internet catches on.

a photo of you two start surfacing of you leaving restaurant in west hollywood, his hand firm at the small of your back. then, photos of him opening the door for you. and photos of him looking at you instead of the camera.

one set of paparazzi pictures blow up incredibly fast—you climbing into his car while he stands beside you in sunglasses and all black. one hand casually resting against the roof above your head, the other firm on your thigh as you settled into the seat.

neither of you comment on it, not publicly at least. but namjoon doesn't hide you either. because if anything—he loved being seen with you.

you noticed it in the small moments. the way his hand settled on your thigh more confidently when people recognized him on a date. the way he pulled you closer when cameras appeared. the way he looks almost amused by attention instead of irritated.

it was like he was always thinking, yeah, she's with me.

namjoon flexed you more than the music plaques on his wall or the collection of sleek cars in his driveway.

because throughout his entire career, no success, no hit record, or no amount of money—had ever made him look at proud as you do sitting beside him.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

4 months later~

the city outside namjoon's windows is glowing gold and white beneath the dark sky, soft music playing quietly somewhere in his giant house.

you're curled against him on the couch in one of his hoodies. legs across his lap while he scrolls lazily through something on his phone with one hand resting absentmindedly along your thighs.

you both had been like this all evening. quiet and comfortable; surrounded by the kind of silence that only exists when two people know everything about each other completely.

honestly, it could scare you a little. because somewhere along these four months, you and namjoon had stopped feeling temporary. it stopped feeling like some kind of whirlwind or fling.

instead, it just started feeling right. it just felt like you and him and nothing else completely belonged.

you looked over at him. observed the sharp line of his jaw that was softened by the warm lighting. the expensive watch sitting around his wrist. the reading glasses he only wore at home that sat low on his nose while he checked emails.

the realization hit you about a month ago so hard and your chest had felt tight ever since. you were completely, undeniably, and utterly in love with him. but now, you couldn't seem to hold it in anymore.

"you're staring again."

your heart jumps slightly. namjoon doesn't even look up from his phone when he says it. you roll your eyes. "you're obsessed with yourself."

a smirk touches his lips. "no," he murmurs calmly, finally looking over at you. "just obsessed with you."

you look away before he can see your flushed face, but of course he already noticed it. because there simply wasn't a thing he didn't notice about you. his phone turned off immediately. "hey," he said gently.

your eyes lift back to his. immediately his expression changes into something softer, but more serious. his hands slide up from your thigh to your waist, pulling you a little closer across the couch until you're practically in his lap. "what's going on in that head, hm?" he asks.

"nothing."

"liar."

the words are gentle, affectionate in a way. you laugh softly, but it comes out nervous. he catches that too. one hand comes up, brushing lightly along your jaw. "talk to me, doll."

you swallow. your voice comes out quietly—"what if... i love you more than you love me?"

the room goes completely still. namjoon stares at you for seconds that stretch far too long, like you had just said something completely. unbelievable.

his brows pulled together. "baby," he says softly, confused, "what?"

your heart pounds instantly at the name. you try to laugh it off, suddenly embarrassed now. "i don't know, i just—"

"no," he cuts in, hands tightening gently at your waist. they weren't harsh, but it was enough to stop you from spiraling away. "no, don't do that."

you looked back at him. and the way he was looking at you now—god. like this mattered. like you mattered.

"you really think you're ahead of me here?" he asks quietly, eyes boring into yours.

your breath catches as namjoon shifts closer, forehead resting lighting against yours. "i've been in love with you for a while now," he admitted softly.

for a second, you felt like you actually stopped breathing. his thumb brushed slowly against your cheek. "you just took longer to realize it."

a shaky laugh leaves you instantly, eyes burning now. namjoon smiles softly at that, an expression you only ever get to see.

"i love you," he says again, quieter this time. but it was certain, as if it were the most obvious thing it the world.

and suddenly every fear you had—about the age gap, about his fame, about his feelings for you—had totally disappeared. because this man—this calm, confident, impossible man—loves you so deeply that he didn't even hesitate to say it.

your eyes fluttered in disbelief, laughing away the butterflies in your stomach. "i love you too."

the smile that breaks across is face is small, but almost disbelieving. but it was unquestionably proud, like he had just won something prized. after that, he kissed you slowly. he enveloped your lips with his tenderly, soaking in all of your warmth beneath him.

"there you are," he murmurs softly. like you were always meant to end up here with him.

and somewhere between the side of the road and his arms, your little street thing had become everything.

‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.

a/n : hope u guys loved this as much as i do eee! sorry there was so much relationship building... this is the longest bts fic i've made (on this app at least) omg..but joon is actually so sexy i could die.

read part two here

love u guys sm <3 read more of my joon fics here !!

[chwrrybby]

── Boyfriend Headcanons ⋮ Joon

domestic boyfriend!Namjoon when he’s on tour :(

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)

© All rights reserved @chwrrybby 2026.

[milk-moonbunnies]

Dimples [Namjoon x Plus Size! Reader]

synoposis: the one where Namjoon is trying to show he's down bad for you

warnings: mdni, 18+, popular! Namjoon, plus size! reader, praise, namjoon fell first, dirty talk, alcohol mentioned, multiple orgasm, protected smut, a cute love story, college au, mention of jin, mention of jimin, flirting, chain necklace, manhandle, etc.

requested: Can you write plus-size girlie fics for Namjoon and Yoongi? I appreciate plus-size rep especially when it’s for Namjoon (Yoongi too), but there aren’t tons of fics for Joon. Don’t know why the man is fine as hell☺️- inside and out.

Tagging: @gottafightwhentheysaybehave

A/N: shout out to @ahgasegotarmy116 for reading this when it was only half done and sharing similar brain cells as me! Also, ignore that I've used these photos before. I love them, okay? lol

wc: 4.3k +

Everything about Namjoon is big.

If you were to ask his friends to describe him, they’d laugh, bunching their shoulders up to give off a taller and broader stance before simply saying, “big body.”

And it was true.

Namjoon had bulked up in college, finishing long days in the gym with a workout to relieve all the stress of classes, a part-time job, and the dread that one day in the future he might actually have to get a driver’s license and not ride a bike everywhere he went.

His body had developed thick muscles, toned hips, and broad shoulders that he almost had to enter through doorways sideways to get in.

He was a big man, and only someone soft and warm could ever handle his strength.

Someone like you.

-

You didn’t believe Namjoon liked you at first.

He was tall, big, and popular. A dimple smile that made anyone who saw it swoon, he was smart too, top ten in all his classes he took.

You really didn’t think he would notice you.

I mean, you’re pretty positive he had a secret fan club of girls and guys who adored him. You’re also pretty sure the president of the club was Jeon Jungkook, but don’t quote you on that.

You were just happy to keep your head down, pass your classes, and enjoy your college life with your little friend group. You didn’t need to get roped in with the unnecessary stuff like who was popular or who was dating whom.

But that all changed when Namjoon asked if he could sit at the table you were sitting at in the campus library. You were catching up on some assignments, preparing for one that wasn't even due till the end of the month, and suddenly there he was.

Tall, three books in one hand, flashing you those dimples like there wasn’t a free table, two tables to your left.

You had thought it was a one-off situation, letting him share a table with you.

You two had quietly studied together for a few hours without even exchanging a word.

It was honestly very refreshing. And when you had finally closed your laptop, standing up to give a little stretch, you didn't even notice the way his eyes trailed over you.

You simply gathered your stuff, shoving your books and laptop in your bag as he continued to pretend to read. You didn't know he had read the same sentence from the book in front of him five times in a row at this point.

When you sling your bag over your shoulder, you finally look over at him, a soft pink dusting your cheeks with color as you speak up. "See ya in class." It's a simple, small sentence you throw out as you accidentally brush your body against his shoulder to scoot past to leave. You mentally curse the chairs being so close together, feeling your soft body rub against his firm one, while Namjoon is "thanking" whoever designed the building to allow the physical contact to happen.

And you think that's it. Nothing would change in your life other than possibly giving him a head nod in acknowledgment the next time you two were in a class together. But you were sorely mistaken.

-

Namjoon is sitting next to your usual spot in class the next time you see him. He's got his textbook out, pen twirling nonchalantly in between his long fingers as he gives you another dimpled smile in greeting, and you only stumble once while heading to your seat.

"Hey," he greets, and you try not to think about how much you spill into his space. The chairs in most of your classes weren't made for bigger-sized people, and you usually tried to keep your bag in the seat next to you so you wouldn't bother people with how you filled your seat.

But with Namjoon occupying the seat, your thigh is pressed against his, your body squeezing into the chair with a blush. "Hi," you reply softly. You were already trying to figure out how to make yourself smaller. The metal arms of the chair dig into your plush thighs, and you notice that Namjoon doesn't move his leg from yours.

His long legs are spread, his foot barely a centimeter away from your left shoe, and your mind flashes a brief thought: how would it feel to have his arm wrap around the back of your chair? To have him welcome your body into his as you two attend this class.

Instead of diving into that thought any longer than you should, you shake your head clear, not noticing the way Namjoon fails to fight his giddy smile. He tries to keep it cool, bouncing his left knee as his right knee leans into your leg. And you're distracted by Namjoon once again, noticing how comfortable he seemed next to you.

Namjoon mentally sends another "thank you" to whoever designed this college, thankful to have someone so warm and soft squishing into his space. He wonders how much better it'd be if he could just sit you on his lap, and his face flushes all the way up to his ears.

You two don't exchange another word, the professor stepping inside the room with a warm greeting.

And for the rest of the class, both of you blush, pressed into each other, trying to focus.

-

And then it becomes routine.

You would come to your Psych class to Namjoon already seated.

And like the first time, you'd squeeze into your seat, your hip bumping into his until it became natural for him to rest his elbow on the arm of your chair. He did it slowly, building up the courage to get more than just a simple greeting for you.

Eventually, you stopped furrowing your eyebrows, confused why he was sitting next to you, let alone talking to you. And it's not long before you two start passing notes. You easily grab his pen from his hand to doodle something random in the margins of his notebook during the professor's lectures, and it's the highlight of Namjoon's day when you did it.

Your dynamic progressed from notes being passed between you to him offering you a snack, and then, every Thursday, a bag of gummy bears rested on his desk as you two slowly ate them throughout class. He naturally gave you every orange-flavored bear, resting it on your open book while you traded him the pineapple-flavored bears in return. And then finally, he took the next step when the following Thursday came around.

You had figured it'd be the same routine. The class was already going by quickly as you two leaned into each other. But then Namjoon is getting up first once the class is over. He seems a little nervous. You had started understanding his body language a bit better as time moved on. Still, you never seemed to think much of the lingering touches when he borrows a pen or when he slides his notebook over for you to draw random swirls in the top corner absentmindedly.

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, his eyes not meeting yours as he watches the class begin to empty. "There's a- There's a party tomorrow night."

You blink.

A party? And then you remember.

Yes, a frat party for spring break. It had been the talk on campus this week; everyone was excited for a weekend party to welcome the start of spring break, the small vacation away from classes needed so much for everyone on campus.

And when Namjoon looks down at you, still seated, you're giving him doe eyes as you nod your head - and his heart squeezes.

"I think I'm gonna go," Namjoon adds and then quickly rushes, "to the party. I think I'm gonna go to the party." His fingers twitch, but you give him a pretty smile, your lips curving up in amusement as you nod your head again.

"Yeah?" You stand up and know that if you barely move an inch, you'd be pressed up against him. You give him another cute look as you tilt your head up to look at him, and decide to give him the chance to tell you this isn't what you were thinking. "Maybe I'll see you there?"

You know you're flirting, and you don't know if you should be - you don't know that he's truly catching what you're putting down, but you decide to give him another smile as you leave before him, looking forward to Friday night more than ever before.

And Namjoon groans the moment you're gone, he stands alone in the empty classroom, his brain replaying your coy smile over and over again.

-

You can't believe you're showing up at this party, but then you see his dimple smile flash in your mind alongside all the small moments in class that made you feel warm throughout your body. It's anticipation, it's undeniable now that you have caught feelings, and you feel a little nervous as you walk up Greek Row.

The party is in full swing, with crowds of people lingering on the front porch and lawn as you get closer. The music is already loud from where you stand across the street, and you just know the house shakes on the inside as you watch groups of people spilling out while more saunter in.

Your stomach flips, butterflies fluttering inside your tummy as you really think about this.

If anything, if you read the signals wrong, you can still have fun and tell your friends you officially attended a college party, even if it took you basically four years to do so.

And that's what gets you stepping inside.

The house is packed, and people are everywhere. The entry hallway, the stairs leading to the second floor, the little glimpse of the kitchen you can see towards the back of the house, and the living room, most of all, are packed with dancing bodies. All the couches had been moved along the walls to give space in the middle of the room for people to dance, and a mock DJ booth was set up in the right corner of the living room, where you could see one of the fraternity brothers acting as DJ.

Strobes of lights flashed from purple to blue, red, and green, changing to match the beat of the song currently playing as people bumped and grind already drunk off of cheap alcohol provided from the kitchen. You weren't sure if the smoke swirling in the rooms was from a fog machine or if it came from weed that you knew was being smoked inside another room, but it was the cherry on top of the cake for a classic frat party aesthetic.

It was a little overwhelming, to be honest, and you made your way to the kitchen to get a shot of courage before you tried to see if Namjoon was here.

You didn't know Namjoon was sitting on one of those couches in the living room, a drink in his hand while he tried to nonchalantly keep an eye on the front door. He had been at this party for a while now, his eyes flickering to the streams of people endlessly coming and going, in hopes it would be you walking through the door.

And when he finally did see you, he couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face.

-

Namjoon is able to catch up with you in the kitchen. You're standing there, a little lost, as your eyes scan all the bottles lined up on the counter. A lot of cheap alcohol, and a punch bowl that was mysteriously filled with a blue liquid you weren't sure about.

"I wouldn't drink it," Namjoon hums, and you twirl to see him on your left. He's giving you that dimple smile again, his body relaxed as he stands close to you. He looks good. He always looks good. But he looks really good tonight.

He's wearing a graphic t-shirt, jeans, with a chained bracelet that went with his chained necklace. It glints in the overhead light of the kitchen, and it's then that you realize you're staring too long.

"And what would you recommend?" You ask, you haven't had a sip of alcohol yet, but you could feel your body hum, slightly leaning closer to Namjoon as he bit his lip. Your eyes flicker to his lips from the action, and your own lips part before you meet his gaze again.

"Nothing," he smirks, and you can feel the heat that comes from him as he tilts his head. "But do you want to take a shot with me?"

- One shot turns into three, and you feel a little buzz thrumming under your fingertips as Namjoon leads you back to the living room. You try not to focus on the way his hand rests on your lower back as he guides you through the waves of people. But you do notice how many people greet him.

It's not surprising; you knew Namjoon was popular, but it was still interesting to see how many people said his name or nodded in his direction as he stayed close to you. It seemed the majority of the people knew him or of him, and silently followed him with their eyes as you two made your way back to one of the couches.

You notice Jin, a friend of Namjoon's, already sitting on one of them. He's nursing a drink in his hand when you two approach and gives you a charming grin. "And how does Namjoon know you?" His lips turn up in an amused grin, knowing eyes flashing from you to Namjoon, whose ears burn red. You sit, smiling at the older friend, and try not to react as Namjoon sits so close to you. But you fail, your thighs squeezing together as you give your own charming smile back to Jin.

"Psych with Volkov."

Jin winces, knowing how tough the professor could be, and nods his head. "Say no more, your next shot is on me."

-

True to Jin's word, your next shot is from him, and you two become quick friends as more of Namjoon's friends come around. And as the night goes on, you become more and more relaxed - leaning into Namjoon as you listen to Jimin talk about the projects he needs to work on during spring break. You would complain too if you had to work on schoolwork instead of taking a break like everyone else.

But soon enough, the couches become crowded, and everyone is trying to squeeze together before Namjoon literally takes you into his hands. "C'mere," he mumbles, and your face flushes from how easily he lifts you and places you onto his lap to make room for more people to hang out. Your weight settles on him, and you're a little drunk but not enough to overthink it.

"Wait," Your blush reaches your ears as Namjoon doubles down by wrapping a strong arm around your waist, keeping you against him as you squirm a little. "Everyone is looking." You mumble out, your back is against his broad chest as warmth pools in your lower stomach, and you are acutely aware of the way his large hand rests on your stomach.

You feel him laugh softly, little warm huffs tickling the back of your neck as he holds you tighter. "Who cares? Everyone's drunk. If they're looking, then they just see how pretty you look on my lap."

He says it so easily, so carefree, like it was only natural that you'd be in his lap. He says it like it's obvious you should be with him, and that makes your head get a little fuzzy from the thought of it. His words echo in your head a few times that you can't hide the smile that dances on your lips, and maybe it's the alcohol that makes your tongue a little loose, but you can't help but turn your head a little sideways to look at him. "Yeah? Are there any other positions you'd think I'd look pretty in?"

-

Namjoon’s eyes are hooded when he looks down at you. He's focused on the way your body squishes under his large hands, molding you to him as he has you lie on your back.

Your legs are straining up onto his shoulders, your full breasts spilling from the sides as your knees bend under the pressure of Namjoon’s body leaning over yours. He was folding you in half, making your thigh muscles burn as your lungs shook to breathe properly. All your rolls and curves were squeezed together under the stretch, and your head spun with the way he was able to manhandle you so easily.

Namjoon had always said he could bench press your weight as a warm-up, but you hadn’t taken it to heart. It always made a soft blush form on your cheeks as you nodded your head during your Psych class, dismissing his comment until he physically proved you wrong now.

Your pretty pussy clenched around nothing as Namjoon smirks down at you. His silver chain dangled between the two of you as his big body draped over yours, and you’re already sucking in another deep breath when you feel Namjoon guide his cock between your plush thighs.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this." He murmurs, his voice almost sounding breathless as he guides the fat tip of his cock between your puffy folds. You can't see the way your pussy drools, mixing your arousal with his precum or that it's glossing his cock with a wet sheen that makes his balls tense from just the sight of it. But you do feel him.

Namjoon is big, just like everything else about him, and you can feel the weight of his cock as he presses his hips forward, sliding his cock between your chubby cunt until the tip nudges your clit. Each time he knocks the head of his cock into your sensitive bundle of nerves, your thighs twitch, and your jaw drops from the tingles of electricity shooting all the way through your body.

You're everything he had imagined and then some.

You're softer, your skin dipping to the hold he has on your body. The weight of your legs on his shoulders grounds him while he gets lost in the way your pretty cunt drools all over his cock. He hasn't even done anything yet, and you're coating him with your sweet slick. He can't wait to taste you, but right now, he needs you first.

Mentally, he promises to take his time next time. He wants to map every curve of your body with his tongue and then his fingers, but when you plead his name with a whine, he can't deny you. He'd been wanting this longer than you probably knew, and it doesn't take him long to lean on his knees, stretching your legs open as his cock notches on your entrance.

Then he's giving you something to really stretch over. The first few inches of his cock pressing in leaves you gasping. Your toes curl, your mouth gapes, and your eyes widen as he bullies his way inside slowly. You can feel every inch, every dip and ridge of his cock maze through your gummy walls until you're grabbing onto his biceps for mercy.

"Oh, oh!" Your head falls back, and Namjoon smirks as he holds one of your legs under the knee to open you up wider as your other leg slips off his shoulder. Your eyes are already glossing over, and he's never been more turned on than right now with you.

You're warmer, wetter, taking him better than he could have imagined, and it makes his stomach flex as he listens to the way you cry for him. Both you and your pretty pussy are talking back incoherently when he finally bottoms out. "Fuck baby, I think we might need to do this every day," Namjoon huffs, and your pussy clenches around him in agreement. "Heh- you'd like that, huh? Do you want to fuck you until your body remembers the shape of me days later, Baby?"

"Oh fuck, please, please-" Your eyes roll back just as his hips push backwards, sliding out until just his tip remains. He leans back to see how shiny you left his cock with your slick before he surges forward, knocking the breath from you once more.

He doesn't have to worry about being too rough; your body moves with his like you were meant just for him. And he tells you that too, as he begins to carve the shape of him inside your pretty pussy as he promised. Shivers run down your spine straight to your sopping cunt, your hole fluttering around his length as he picks up the pace gradually. You take the heavy weight he throws into every thrust with a sweet whimper, your nails digging into his arms as his fat tip smacks into your plush cervix with a filthy kiss.

Your swollen folds meet the tufts of dark hair at his base, and you keen at the way his cock massages all the right spots inside you. Your mouth hangs open, drool forming at the corner of your lips as he abuses the sweet spot that makes you see stars with your eyes open. "You're squeezin' me so tightly, you really don't want me to leave, huh?" Namjoon's words only make your head spin more, your hands clutching to his arms, the bedsheets, his shoulder - anywhere to ground you to reality as he builds the knot in your stomach tighter and tighter.

You never thought that the day you two studied together in the library would end up like this, with Namjoon splitting you open with his cock, his fingers digging into your plush thigh and hip as he fucks you, but you're so happy it did. You can feel his balls slap against your ass, the sounds of skin hitting skin resonating with your whines, and it's too much.

"M'gonna- fuck just like that, just like that!" Your chubby cunt slurps his cock deeper, gripping tighter and making it harder for him to leave as his tip swirls a heart against your sweet spot, and just as your brain realizes what Namjoon has done, your vision whitens. You can barely warn him, "m'cumming - oh fuck - oh my god!"

Your pussy gushes, pulsing around Namjoon so violently that he almost cannot keep fucking into you. Your walls flutter, milking his shaft as your brain blanks; the only coherent thought in your mind is him. Namjoon, just Namjoon, as you tremble underneath him.

Namjoon stares at you in awe, the image of your lewd expression crossing over your face searing into his mind as you cum. And the feeling of your body melting under his as he grinds his hips into yours is something he didn't know he needed until now. He fucks you through your orgasm, praising you for taking him so well, how he's wanted this for so long. He tells you how pretty you look cumming on his cock, that he wants to feel you cum on his fingers and tongue too - and it's not long before your orgasm subsides, only to be built back up as he lets your legs fall apart while his toned hips rut into you harder.

You can only hold onto the bedsheets and his back as he drapes his body over yours. You two are pressed hip to hip, stomach to stomach, as he slides in deeper, his hands resting on either side of your head as he makes your pussy squelch with each thrust. He's got you caged in, making you feel each slide forward until the familiar knot in your stomach twists again, and your brain fogs up. He reduces you to just saying his name like a chant, half-broken between gasps as you whimper, "Joon! Mmph, ngh Joon!"

When your pussy clamps around him the second time, your orgasm triggers his own, and his hips stay flush against your ass as he groans lowly. His cock swells, throbbing as he cums heavily while your walls pulse around him. It makes his own eyes roll to the back of his head, your addictive cunt sucking him deeper.

And you're no better, your thighs twitch around his waist, your breath coming up short while you feel him press his weight onto you. You can feel each jerk of his cock along your gummy walls, and you whimper when he eventually begins to slide out. You can feel the loss of him almost immediately as he slips the condom off, both of you panting as you pathetically squeeze around nothing.

Namjoon throws the condom in the trash, disappearing to the bathroom for a moment before he returns with a wet rag. His breaths are still labored like yours as he gently cleans you up, his fingers massaging your quivering thighs as he does so. When he's done, he easily slides into his bed next to you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close.

"I meant it."

You blink, turning to face him as your leg hooks over his. His hand rests on your lower back, keeping you pressed against him as you tilt your head up to see him.

"I've been wanting this for a long time." Your heart flutters at his words, and your cheeks darken as he continues. "I also meant it when I said we might need to do this every day."

You smile, giggling, and are thankful that it's spring break because you know Namjoon is going to be true to his word. By the time spring break is over, he'll know how you look cumming on his fingers, his tongue, and any other position he can get you in.

대박 - you made it to the end.

Tell me about it.

my bts mstrlst - svt mstrlst

[minsyoongi]

Bonus:

[a-nyx-7]

Wild ⋆˚꩜｡ KNJ

when a cozy reading evening turns into a steamy play between you and your boyfriend.

Genre - smut, idol, girlfriend x boyfriend, romance, ice play.

Pairing - idol! Namjoon x girlfriend! Reader

ONESHOT 3K words

The penthouse was a tomb of elegant silence, save for the soft rustle of pages turning. You were tucked into the corner of the velvet couch, lost in a world of ink and paper. The quiet shattered when the front door clicked open. Namjoon stepped inside, bundled in a puffy jacket and a low-slung cap. He pulled down his mask, offering a tired but genuine smile and a playful wink.

"How was your day?" you asked, peering over the top of your book.

"Good. Wrote some lyrics... then did practice for the upcoming shoot." He shucked off the heavy jacket, tossing it aside before sinking onto the cushion beside you. He glanced at the book in your hand, his eyes softening. "Reading?"

"Yes. Been reading since the afternoon. I love this book." He hummed in acknowledgment, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before heading to the bedroom to wash off the day.

You dove back into the story, but the tone had shifted. You hit a chapter of pure, unadulterated smut. The descriptions were graphic, visceral, and intense, making your thighs clench instinctively. You were mid-ovulation, your body already a live wire of sensitivity, and this was the last thing you needed.

Or exactly what you needed.

Your mind betrayed you, replacing the book’s male lead with Namjoon. You imagined him losing that composed idol exterior—manhandling you, pinning your wrists, his large, veined hands exploring every inch of you. Namjoon was kinky, you knew that, but he usually held back, careful and respectful. But right now, you didn't want careful. You wanted all of him.

He stepped back into the living room, freshly showered and smelling of soap and raw masculinity. The scent hit your senses like a physical blow. You shifted uncomfortably as he sat a few feet away, the friction of your jeans against your skin sending a jolt through you. Focus, you told yourself, but it was a lost cause.

As you tried to read, your imagination ran wild. You could practically feel his mouth on your skin, his tongue swirling over your nipples, his weight crushing you into the mattress.

A small, involuntary sigh escaped your throat. You gulped, darting a glance at him. He was scrolling through his phone, his jawline looking sharp enough to cut glass, his focus absolute. Your eyes drifted to his hands—those massive, powerful hands. You watched the veins pop and flex as he typed, and your core throbbed in response.

You shook your head, trying to clear the haze, and looked back at the page. The description was too much. A small, high-pitched moan escaped your lips before you could catch it. Your eyes went wide, and you looked up to find Namjoon staring at you, a dark, amused smile playing on his lips.

You let out a shaky breath of pure embarrassment, covering your mouth with your hand.

"Did you... just moan, Y/N?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

"No," you lied, though your flushed skin told a different story.

Namjoon set his phone on the coffee table and slid closer, his movements predatory. "What were you reading, huh?" He settled a hand on your knee, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles upward. You gulped, looking up as he began to hover over you, his bulky chest brushing against yours with every breath.

"N-nothing..." you stammered.

He reached out and plucked the book from your hands, scanning the title. "Dark romance?" He raised a brow, a flicker of heat in his gaze. "Hmmm. Must be some serious smut to make my girlfriend moan like that."

Your heart hammered against your ribs as he flipped to the bookmarked page. He let out a low, dark chuckle as he skimmed the text. "Who were you imagining while reading this?" His voice shifted—it was deep, husky, and full of intent.

You instinctively parted your knees to give him room, and he settled perfectly between your legs, his weight a welcome pressure. "You."

"Me? That's good." He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck. "Do you ever touch yourself while reading smut? Imagining me doing these things to you?"

His hand moved to your cardigan, slowly popping the buttons one by one. You shivered as the cool air hit your heated skin, revealing the faint purple marks he’d left on your collarbone last night. Seeing them clearly turned him on even more.

"I do," you whispered shakily.

He smirked and leaned in, kissing the corner of your lips. His tongue flicked out, tasting your skin, licking at your mouth like you were his favorite treat. You arched your back, your fingers tangling in his damp hair as small, needy whines broke from your throat.

"Mhmm," he hummed against your skin, his mouth migrating down to suck at the existing bruises on your neck. "Tell me... do you want me?"

"Y-yes."

"How do you want me to take you?" He growled the words into your ear, his voice vibrating through your entire body.

"Rough," you whimpered, shivering when he nipped at your bottom lip with his teeth.

"Let's try something, shall we?" he whispered, his hand sliding dangerously high up your thigh.

He gripped your waist, hoisting you up until you were sitting flush against his chest, your back to him and your body cradled perfectly between his heavy, spread thighs. You could feel the rigid, demanding length of his hard-on pressing firmly against the crack of your ass. It was a promise of what was coming. He pressed the book back into your shaking hands.

"Read. Read it out to me," he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, sending a violent shiver down your spine.

Your heart skipped a beat, hammering against your ribs. With trembling fingers, you flipped the pages open and began to read, your voice thin and wavering. "Shawn... Shawn slowly rubbed his cock against Rae's clit, her moans..."

As the words left your lips, Namjoon’s hand slid down the front of your pants. He didn't go inside yet; instead, he used the palm of his hand to rub you through the fabric, his fingers circling your pussy with agonizing slowness.

"Read," he commanded, the authority in his voice making your core throb.

You swallowed hard and continued, "Her moans echo through the silent room, as he fu—fuck..." You gasped, your hand flying down to catch his as his other hand reached up to squeeze your breast, pinching your nipple roughly through the thin material of your cardigan.

"Fucks her against... t-the wall... Namjoon!" You let out a high-pitched wail as he suddenly hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling the fabric tight and snapping it back against your soaking wet slit. The friction was electric. His mouth dropped to your shoulder, licking a path of fire toward your neck.

"Go on, baby... read," he whispered against your skin.

You shook your head frantically, your vision blurring. "I can't... I need you," you panted, your body writhing against his.

"Mhmm... first read." He found your clit through the lace and pinched it sharply, making you buck against him. As you tried to grind for more, his grip on your hips tightened, pinning you in place. A low, guttural moan escaped him. "Be a good girl, or I’ll move away."

Terrified he’d actually stop, you nodded and forced your eyes back to the text. "There... Rae screamed. She was... panting as Shawn came all... fuck... feels so good, Joon." You threw your head back against his shoulder as his fingers finally dove inside your pants, catching the sticky wetness and massaging it deep into your walls, his thumb never leaving your clit.

"Joon..." you moaned, the book slipping from your fingers and thudding onto the table. You couldn't take the distance anymore. You shifted, turning in his arms to wrap your legs firmly around his waist, pressing your soaking pussy directly against his stomach.

"Please," you pleaded, your eyes blown wide and dark with heat.

"Remove them," he ordered, his eyes dropping to your shorts.

You didn't hesitate for a second. You stripped out of your clothes until you were completely naked, while he remained fully dressed, the contrast of his rough denim against your bare skin making you whimper.

You sat back down on his lap, straddling him and rubbing yourself up and down against the bulge in his pants. Just the friction of his thick thighs was enough to send you over the edge. Your head fell back, your throat exposed, as you ground your aching pussy against him.

He gripped your hips with bruising force, his large hands guiding your rhythm, letting out deep, approving hums that vibrated through your chest as you rode his thigh.

The friction was relentless. Each time you slid down his thick thigh, the rough fabric of his pants caught against your swollen clit, sending white-hot sparks through your nervous system. Namjoon’s hands were like iron clamps on your hips, forcing you to take every bit of the friction he dictated.

"Look at me," he growled, his voice a low rumble you felt in your soul.

You forced your eyes open, your vision swimming. He was watching you with a raw, predatory hunger, his pupils so blown out they swallowed the brown of his irises. Seeing his face—the way his nostrils flared as he watched you come undone—pushed you over the ledge.

"Joon, I'm... I'm gonna—"

"Do it," he hissed, his thumbs digging into your hip bones. "Come for me, Y/N. Right there on my leg."

The first wave hit like a tidal wave. Your internal muscles clamped down hard, pulsing in a violent, rhythmic squeeze. You let out a broken, strangled scream, your back arching until you thought it might snap. You were grinding into his thigh with desperate, frantic force, trying to milk every last drop of pleasure from the contact.

"Fuck," Namjoon groaned, his head falling back as he felt the heat of your release soaking through the denim of his jeans. He didn't let you stop; he kept your hips moving, forcing you to ride out every single throb of your orgasm against him.

You slumped forward, your forehead resting against his damp neck, your chest heaving as you tried to find oxygen. You were slick, shaking, and completely spent, but the weight of his hard-on was still pressing rhythmically against you.

He didn't move for a long moment, just held you tightly, his breath ragged in your ear. Then, he leaned back just enough to look you in the eyes, his smirk returning—sharper and filthier than before.

"You're a mess, baby," he whispered, his hand sliding down to feel the sticky evidence of your climax. He brought his fingers up, showing you how much you'd leaked for him. "But I’m still fully dressed... and I'm far from finished with you.”

Namjoon’s hand lingered between your thighs, his fingers tracing the sensitive, pulsing skin as you tried to catch your breath. He leaned in close, the heat radiating off his body contrasting sharply with the cooling dampness on your skin.

"All those books you read," he murmured, his voice dropping into that dangerously smooth register. "All those scenes you've been imagining me in... tell me one. Your wildest fantasy. Something you've read that you want me to do to you right now."

He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin until you shivered. "Don't hold back, baby. I want to know exactly how to ruin you."

You swallowed hard, your heart still racing from the climax. You thought about the dog-eared pages of your paperbacks, the scenes that made your blood boil and your stomach flip. You leaned back, looking into his dark, expectant eyes.

"Ice play," you whispered, the words feeling heavy and scandalous on your tongue. "I read a scene once... about using ice. I want to feel you use it on me."

Namjoon’s eyebrows shot up, a slow, wicked smirk spreading across his face. He let out a low whistle, his gaze dropping to your flushed chest. "Ice? You want to be cold while I'm this hot for you?" He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. "I can work with that."

He didn't waste a second. He stood up, lifting you effortlessly and setting you back down on the velvet couch. "Don't move. Not an inch," he commanded, pointing a finger at you before disappearing into the kitchen.

You sat there, naked and trembling, the penthouse air biting at your wet skin. A moment later, he returned. In his hand was a small crystal bowl filled with clear, jagged ice cubes. He sat back down on the edge of the couch, spreading your legs wide and settling between them once more.

He picked up a single cube. It was glistening, sharp, and freezing.

"You want to feel this?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours.

Before you could even nod, he pressed the ice directly against the hollow of your throat. You gasped, your back arching at the sudden, shocking sting of the cold. He dragged the cube down slowly, following the line of your collarbone, the melting water trailing like tiny, freezing insects across your skin.

"Look at how your nipples react," he rasped, watching as they puckered into hard points. He moved the ice lower, circling one breast and then the other, the cold making the skin tighten and ache.

Just as the cold became almost too much to bear, he replaced the ice with his mouth. The sudden blast of his hot tongue sucking the freezing water off your nipple made you scream, your hands flying to his hair.

"J-Joon!"

"Shhh," he hissed, his eyes dark with a new kind of intensity. He picked up another piece of ice. "We’re just getting started. I haven't even taken it south yet."

He moved the ice down your stomach, stopping just at the top of your curls. He looked up at you, the ice dripping between his fingers. "Tell me, Y/N... do you want it inside, or just on your clit?”

"Everywhere..." you moaned, your voice cracking with a desperate need.

Namjoon’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with a dark, playful hunger. He reached into the bowl and plucked out another ice cube, slotting it firmly between his lips. He leaned over you, the heat from his body radiating against your bare skin while the ice remained a chilling promise.

He started at your sternum, dragging his lips—and the freezing edge of the cube—slowly down your torso. You let out a jagged gasp as the ice carved a path of fire and frost toward your stomach. He took his time, circling your navel with agonizing precision, the melting water pooling in the dip of your belly before spilling over your hips.

The sensation was maddening; the searing heat of his mouth against the biting sting of the ice made your nerves scream.

You were writhing beneath him, your back arching off the velvet cushions as you tried to ground yourself. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer even as the cold made you shiver violently.

"You're so reactive, Y/N," he murmured against your skin, his voice muffled by the ice but dripping with authority.

He moved the cube lower, tracing the delicate line of your hip bone before bringing it back to the center. He didn't just let it sit there; he used his tongue to swirl the ice against your sensitive skin, the contrast making your breath come in short, frantic hitches. You were a mess of contradictions—burning up from his proximity and freezing from his touch.

"Please, Joon... it's too much," you whimpered, your thighs trembling as they brushed against his clothed legs.

"Not yet," he rasped, his eyes fixed on the way your muscles rippled under the cold. He sucked the ice back into his mouth, chilling his tongue until it was numb, then immediately replaced the ice with a long, hot lick across your sensitive stomach.

The sudden transition from freezing to boiling sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to your core. You let out a broken cry, your hips bucking instinctively. He chuckled low in his throat, a predatory sound that vibrated against your skin.

"I told you I'd give you everything," he whispered, his hand sliding down to part your legs even wider. "And we still have a whole bowl of ice to get through before I even think about letting you come.”

Namjoon didn’t give you a second to recover. With the ice still held firmly between his teeth, he moved lower, his head disappearing between your trembling thighs. The moment the freezing edge of the cube touched your sensitive, swollen folds, a strangled scream tore from your throat.

It was a total assault on your senses. He used his lips to guide the ice, dragging it in slow, torturous circles around your clit. The biting cold made your muscles contract violently, but then came the heat—his tongue, slick and muscular, followed right behind the ice to lick away the freezing meltwater. The contrast was agonizingly perfect; it felt like being branded by frost and fire at the same time.

"J-Joon! Stop... no, don't stop!" you sobbed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your knuckles white.

He ignored your protests, his focus entirely on the wreck he was making of you. He tilted his head, using the sharp corner of the ice to flick against your bud, before burying his face against you and letting out a deep, vibrating hum.

The vibration, combined with the numbing cold and his searing tongue, sent a massive jolt of electricity straight to your brain.

You were thrashing now, your heels dragging against the couch cushions as you tried to find some purchase. Namjoon’s large hands moved to your thighs, pinning them wide, keeping you exposed and vulnerable to his every whim.

He sucked the ice deeper into his mouth, chilling his entire palate, before spitting the half-melted shard back into the bowl. He immediately replaced it with the full, scorching heat of his mouth. He latched onto you, sucking hard, his tongue swirling in a frantic rhythm that mirrored the pulse thrumming through your pussy.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he growled against your skin, his voice thick with lust. "The ice isn't even melting fast enough to keep up with how much you're burning for me."

He looked up at you, his chin glistening with a mix of melted ice and your own nectar. His eyes were dark, devoid of their usual sweetness, replaced by a raw, dominant hunger that told you exactly what was coming next. He reached for the bowl again, but this time, he didn't pick up a cube. He grabbed a handful of the smaller, crushed pieces and pressed them directly against your entrance.

You gasped, your body stiffening as the ice began to slide inside you. "Namjoon, please—"

"I've got you," he whispered, his hand moving to his fly, the sound of the zipper loud in the silent penthouse. "I'm going to melt every single piece of that ice inside you with how hard I'm about to fuck you.”

Namjoon didn't wait for your consent; he knew your body was already screaming for it. He took a fresh, jagged cube from the bowl and pressed it firmly against your entrance. The shock of the sub-zero temperature hitting your most sensitive, over-sensitized skin made your entire body lurch. You let out a broken, breathless sob, your head tossing from side to side on the cushions.

"Focus, Y/N," he rasped, his voice a low, commanding vibration between your legs.

While one hand held the ice, rubbing it in slow, cruel circles that numbed your outer lips, his mouth surged forward to claim you. He buried his face in your heat, his tongue darting out to lick the freezing water directly off your clit. The sensation was mental—a frantic, high-voltage glitch in your nervous system.

One second you were freezing, your muscles seizing under the ice, and the next, the scorching, muscular heat of his tongue was swirling over your bud, dragging you back into the fire.

"Namjoon, fuck! It’s too much!" you wailed, your fingers clawing at the back of his head, trying to pull him closer and push him away all at once.

He ignored your pleas, his grip on your thighs tightening until his fingerprints were practically bruised into your skin. He pushed the ice cube deeper, right against the opening of your core, letting the cold seep inside your walls. At the same time, he began to eat you out with a feral, rhythmic intensity.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking in a fast, relentless pace that mimicked the way he’d want to fuck you.

The combination was lethal. The ice was numbing your nerves just enough that when his tongue hit, the pleasure felt amplified, sharper, and more visceral. You were a mess of high-pitched whimpers and gutteral moans, your hips bucking uncontrollably against his face.

"You're shaking so hard, baby," he muttered against your wet skin, the ice melting rapidly between his fingers and your heat.

He didn't stop until he felt the first violent tremor of your climax. He pressed the remaining shard of ice directly onto your clit and sucked hard, his tongue working in a frantic circle.

The dual sensation pushed you over the edge. You screamed his name into the empty penthouse, your internal muscles clamping down on the cold and the heat, pulsing in long, agonizing waves of release that seemed to go on forever.

He stayed there, drinking you in, holding the ice against you until it completely disappeared, melted away by the sheer fever of your orgasm. When he finally looked up, his face was glistening, his eyes dark and satisfied.

"See?" he whispered, his thumb wiping a stray drop from his lip. "I told you I'd make you feel everything.”

Masterlist

A/n : I wasn't going to post this today but anyways....I wrote this one shot early this morning. I don't know what got into me. Do leave your review!

Requests are open <3

[kooksie7]

this just melted my heart 🥹

[higherheelsandlipsticknapkins]

when it comes to love, she could be an all-nighter kim namjoon x reader

idol! namjoon x fem non-celeb! reader

summary: reader has NO IDEA who namjoon is. during a late night on the vegas strip, a stressed namjoon goes to his hotels rooftop, only to find a girl smoking a cigarette there. he asks her for one and the rest is history.

themes: slight? age gap (reader is 22, namjoon is 31), located on the las vegas strip, angst, fluff, idol namjoon x non celebrity reader, reader doesn't know who he is, confident!bold reader, joon is very dominant and possessive (and lowkey a whore), nicknames, porn with some plot

warnings: sexual themes, explicit & descriptive smut MINORS DNI 18+ hard dom namjoon, age gap & size kink, public sex, unprotected sex, soo much dirty talk, cigarettes and drinking, shotgunning, edging/teasing, fingering, oral, cowgirl, missionary, like a lot of positions actually

word count: 3.8k (a lil on the shorter side)

this is who nuts was written about, iykyk

♬ nuts - RM

i’m on some random resorts rooftop, wine drunk, smoking a cigarette. just like the hangover, which I’ve watched a billion times.

the wine is sweet, most importantly cheap. my motto is all alcohol gets you to the same place.

i’m zoning out looking at the view when the door to the rooftop clicks open, i freeze, maybe someone found out im not supposed to be here. i don’t dare turn around but instead smoke my cigarette a little faster.

i hear it slam shut, footsteps making its way to where i am. i really hope i don’t have to throw this cigarette away if i get kicked out.

“can i have one?”

i turn to the voice that said that and sigh in relief that it’s not someone trying to get me out of here

“they’re 305s is that alright?”

“as long as it’s a cigarette”

this guy knows what’s up

i give him one and light it up for him

“i like 305s better than american spirits, which is apparently a controversial opinion according to any of my friends or the widespread public. but i just think american spirits are way too strong” i yap and yap and yap

“i actually don’t even know what any of that means. i’ve never had anything but korean cigarettes” he says

“oh, are you korean?”

he hesitates for a moment before replying “yeah”

“i’ve never had korean cigarettes and this is your first american one, guess you owe me one now”

he looks at the ground before saying “i like this one”

he’s being so dry but i guess that’s how people are. i have no filter, or shame for that matter, so i really just talk anyone’s ears off, even if they seem like they don’t want anything to do with me.

i take another swig of my wine, half the bottles already gone

i’m not quite sure why he’s still standing next to me if he doesn’t want to entertain a conversation, but i still need entertainment so i keep talking, “so are you like from korea, like living here or do you still live there?”

“i still live there, im just here…” he takes a drag slowly and blows it out before continuing, “…on business” 

he turns his whole body, which was previously preoccupied with looking at the view, to look at me, “what are you doing in vegas?”

i turn too, “the wind blew me here”

i can’t help but notice how tall he is, and how his dimples are so evident even though he’s far, far away from smiling

at this point i’m tingly and smiley from the wine and previous drinks i had. im sure i look somewhat like a whore right now, wearing a backless halter dress, it’s silver and has some sparkle to it. the hoop earrings paired with the fact that i’m leaning into a cute stranger with a half empty bottle of wine in my hands ties everything together

“do you want some? rude of me not to even ask” i giggle while handing him the bottle and he very unexpectedly smiles at me and i get to see what his dimples actually look like

he takes the bottle from my hand and chugs a good amount of it

i hope this will make him less stressed out

“wow that wine is terrible” he says, “but i liked it”

i laugh and press my body on the wall, enjoying how cold it still feels, “yupppp, cheap wine”

“how old even are you?” he asks

“twenty two, what about you? i reply

“thirty one”

“we got an old man over here”

i laugh but he doesn’t

he stays looking at me with a look i can’t quite place. i know when guys wanna fuck me and i know when they hate me, but the way he’s looking at me is somewhere in between or maybe not even on that chart at all

i get annoyed trying to figure it out so leave to sit down on the outdoor couch

and for some reason he follows me there,

then sits down too close next to me,

then i make up some lame excuse how i need to stretch out my legs just so i could put them over his lap

for a split second i think i must be making him uncomfortable and i move to get my legs off his lap,

but then his hands are pushing me back then and one of them is a little too high up in between my thighs

it really feels like we’re just an adventurous couple, out in vegas, but i actually don’t even know his name

“i’ve had a day” he says

“i could tell”

“damn, was i that obvious?”

“you weren’t friendly at first, i’ll tell you that” i answer, “but now you’re getting real friendly”

his hand squeezes around my thigh when i say that,

“where are you going dressed like that?” he asks

“well, i was planning on going to the club next to ceasers palace but i just wanted to pregame a little before i went…” i pause and trace his bicep, “…but now im not sure i’ll even make it there”

i’m not sure he’s picking up on the hints im dropping at him. i don’t usually hook up with random strangers but it might seem like i do to him, i mean after all he doesn’t know me and i don’t know him. for all he knows im fucking everyone i come across.

i get a little insecure about this, so i take my legs off of his lap and pull my knees to my chest

but that only makes it worse because im wearing a dress.

out of frustration of how i might be perceived i say “i dont usually get that close with people i just met by the way,”

i look at him in the eyes to make sure hes listening to me

“never thought you did, princess”

my face rests my knees, i keep looking at him and he keeps looking at me,

then his hand travels to my bare back and traces up my spine

surprisingly, i don’t shiver. we just keep looking at each other

he’s so… large

like in a man way, he’s tall and he’s buff and if he was my boyfriend i know id never have to worry about anything ever again, because he’d be there to guide me through the crowds and open all the doors

and fuck me properly

but i’m getting way ahead of myself here and before i can really start to daydream about the man right in front of me he mumbles

“today was rough, you were right”

“tell me more” i reply

“just some bullshit with… weird people. my job isn’t difficult in the traditional way but in other aspects, it’s the most complicated one out there”

i want to ask him what he does but i figured if he wanted to tell me he would’ve by now

“but that’s enough on my part, what’s going on with you?” he continues

you’d think were old friends catching up with the way he said that 

“you know, just the usual, kids and the husband” i reply sarcastically, knowing i’m so far away from having either

he gets the joke, thankfully, and laughs

his voice gets deeper and it hits me like a brick when he says “i miss your legs on my lap, get back over here”

after my whole bottle was drank, me and this cute stranger are talking about our whole lives

he tells me how he learned english with the tv show friends, i tell him how ive never watched it

“what? how have you never watched friends? it’s like more famous than jesus himself”

i giggle and say “yeah but that’s worse than not even knowing what sex and the city is!”

he shakes his head while laughing, we’re both wine drunk and it’s the best feeling ever

i bring another cigarette to my lips and as im fiddling with the lighter he pauses me and lights mine with his

“i didn’t even know you could do that”

he smokes the last of his before putting it out and saying “you know what else you can do?”

“what else can i do”

he takes my freshly lit cigarette, inhales a long drag, grabs my face and blows the smoke into my mouth

i’m only shocked for a second before i snap back

“oh but you know what else i can do?”

“what else can you do?” he replies

i take a drag from the cigarette between his fingers, blow the smoke on his neck, then suck the little vein that goes along it

“i’m seeing a lot of things you can do…” he says, “…but i think you need to see what i can do”

“hmm, okay cute stranger, and what’s that?”

he gives me back my cigarette and slides his hand up my thigh, higher and higher until i break eye contact

i really don’t regret being so bold when we first sat on this couch

“tell me about the last guy that made you come”

i look up at him again, “really good, he was tall… i really love tall. he fucked me really good too”

i know most girls couldn’t say great things about their sex lives, but i somehow got lucky to have had all the guys i’ve slept with cared about getting me off

his hand kept going higher

“he knew what he was doing, he treated me really well… knew every last inch of my bo-“ 

i get cut off by him pulling my thong to the side and running his fingers up my cunt

“cmon princess, keep talking”

well now i fucking can’t

he’s rubbing his fingers on me so good i can’t even think

i open my legs a little more out of pure desperation, lifting my hips up so he can get the signal to take my panties off

but he doesn’t, in fact he stops all together. and just as i’m about to get mad at him he takes my hand and stands up, leading me back to the wall we met at

he places me with my back against it, gets on his knees and lifts up my dress, hooking his fingers on the sides of my thong and slowly, so fucking slowly, pulling it down

i could genuinely drool at the sight of him on his knees

he grabs the back of my knee and swings my leg over his shoulder and kisses my inner thighs, over and over

i let out a shaky whine when his tongue is finally on my clit, my hands instinctively tangle in his hair and my legs feel weak

but he’s there holding me up

his tongue feels so good, he’s really taking his time with me despite the fact anyone could walk through that door

he’s alternating between flexing and flattening his tongue. it all feels so good and then he adds two fingers and i lose it

the wine drunk part of me is a whining (no pun intended) mess, but the wine drunk part of me is all of me right now

“my legs are so weak i don’t know if i can stand up with you making me feel this good” i say

“hm, can’t handle my tongue on your pussy?” he mumbles against me and i whimper

“shut the fuck up, you’re so cocky…” i say, “i can handle it”

he stops what he was doing so fast and stands up, “who do you think you’re talking to like that you stupid fucking whore”

i’m looking up at him, both angry and turned on, he’s so tall and big he blocks everything else so all i can feel and see is him

“good girls stay quiet and let their man make them feel good,” he says while sliding his fingers inside of me once again

i’m out of breath by how good his fingers feel in me, everything he’s doing is so good, 

but i’m a brat so i say “my man? i don’t even know your name”

he keeps pulling his fingers in and out of me, staying so close to me i can feel his heartbeat 

it turns me on how much taller than me he is

his fingers slide out of me to softly tap at my clit

“i don’t usually do this either, but do you want to go to my room?”

i force myself to make eye contact with him then get on my tippy toes to whisper in his ear “only if you promise i won’t be able to walk tomorrow”

just like that my legs are around his waist, we’re making out and he’s fumbling for the card to his room, mumbling something like “it was just in my pocket” before finding it

when he finally unlocks the door, he puts me down on the desk, my panties are somewhere but i’m not quite sure where 

i reach to take off his belt and he tries doing it himself but i slap his hand away, “nuh uh, let me take it off”

“you’re such a brat” he replies

“weren’t you just calling me a princess?”

“most princesses are brats, you’re proving me right”

his belt is in off and in my hand and i jokingly slap it on the desk, he smiles and tells me he’s going to ruin me tonight

i push him back until his knees hit the bed and im on top of him, im straddling his hips while my hands are going up his shirt.

his hands are all over me, bunching the dress above my hips, going under it and squeezing my nipples

“oh fuck, ohmyfuckinggod” i moan

“you like that, huh?”

i nod rapidly, my nipples have always been sensitive. he flips me over, concerningly easily, so he’s on top.

if i didn’t have a weird sense of trust with him i would be concerned about his ability to hurt me. but that turned me on in a way, i knew he was never going to lay a hand on me in a harmful way.

he was here to make me feel good, and i could tell he needed to fuck

“let’s see how pretty your whimpers can get princess”

he bites down on my nipple so softly, yet it makes me feel everything. my moans have never been loud or over the top, the expectation for good sex is loud pornographic moaning but that’s just not true, and he got that so well. he knew how to get genuine sounds out of me, the kind of moan that’s a whimper because of how good it feels.

“can you please please please put your dick inside of me already?”

“since you asked so nicely”

he starts talking his pants off in front of me, i get on my knees on the bed and let him slide my dress off. now he’s just in his boxers and i’m so wet. i rub him through the fabric, he feels painfully hard, like i’ve never felt a dick be this hard before. 

“you’re so hard for me”

“i’ve been wanting to feel you around me ever since you lit up my cigarette”

“hm, so like four hours ago?”

he responds by taking off his boxers

wow

how is that going to fit in me?

two of his fingers already made me lose my train of thought… this is going to break me in half

“you’re fucking huge, holy shit…” i say “…my pussys tight, you’re gonna break me”

then he lets out the darkest laugh i’ve ever heard, my core tightened at it and every sense i had tingled

maybe i wanted him to break me

“guess ill just have to fuck you nice n’ slow princess” he says while guiding me back on the bed. he gets on top of me again and rubs his tip against me, i gasp because this man has been teasing me for hours now and i’m so turned on and i need him to ruin me.

“nice n’ slow? maybe in the morning… but right now, tonight, i need you to fuck me properly” i say, not daring to break eye contact with him

he stops, breathing shortening

“i don’t need you to be polite. i need my pussy to be ruined, i need you to be rough. bruise me, choke me, use me. pound into me”

he still isn’t moving, it’s like i’ve short circuited the mother board

“you don’t know how bad i needed to hear that”

it’s truly beautiful when two people have sexual chemistry. when you both want and are into the same things

but what’s even more beautiful is when a girl needs to get pounded into the mattress and a boy needs to pound a girl into said mattress. when a girl is stressed and a boy is also stressed, so he eats her out. when a boy is stressed so he needs to ruin her. 

when a random stranger meets a bold girl on a rooftop that she’s not supposed to be at and feels his heart strings get tugged at.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good princess”

and that begins it, he’s pushing into me and i didn’t think i could’ve taken him but i’m so wet that it slides in. it fills me up and i gasp when his tip went in me, and again when he bottomed out.

“fuck, your dick is massive. how do you walk around with that thing on you?”

he giggles and rubs my clit to alleviate the pressure, i keep talking like a broken record

“no wonder you were stressed out, you’re so hard i can’t imagine how frustrating that is”

“your pussys doing me good”

i smile and reach around his back, raking my nails along it, he groans. he feels so good inside of me

“alright now fuck me like you need me”

all the sudden i’m flipped on my back, arched like a cat, and he’s fucking me relentlessly. pounding into me just like i needed him to, just like he needed to.

“you’re so good to me” i whimper out

my face against the pillow, him pinning my wrists against my back, my head almost hitting the headboard. his large, tall frame hovering over me. 

“such a pretty fuckin girl, wish i could take you with me everywhere.” he holds my wrists with one hand so he can lean over me and grab my face, he grabs it so hard i’m sure i’ll feel the ache in my jaw days from now.

“open your mouth”

i obey, i open my mouth and he spits in it.

i feel so filthy doing this with someone i met just a few hours ago, but at the same time it felt like i’ve known him for longer. he had a weird reserved demeanor to him, but maybe that was shyness. whatever it was, i feel like it was being uncovered now.

he reaches over to my nipples and rolls one between his fingers, it feels so amazing and all the senses are getting to me. at this point i’m on my hands fucking myself into him. his arms wrap around my waist, i can feel myself close.

his grunts start getting stronger, his thrusts are deeper, and he spills inside of me.

“oh fuck, princess. you’re so good, pussy so good. sorry i came inside you, couldn’t help it, you felt so good”

he slowly thrusts, fucking his load into me so none spills out

by the way he was fucking me, i don’t think he could be reserved about his life after this. he sure as hell deserved something from me after making me feel that good. i turn to face him and say, “let me ride you”

he smirks, looking at me up and down. “i don’t know what i did to deserve you”

i roll my eyes, “sit down, back on the headboard”

“you gonna bounce on me good?”

“don’t fall in love”

i slide down on him, back facing him, hands on his thighs so i can move deeper and faster. this angle is even better, i feel so full.

his hands are holding onto my hips so hard i’m sure ill wake up with a bruise. i just hope ill wake up with a bruise next to him.

“you’re trying to top even when i’m riding you” i turn as much as i can to face him

“what do you mean?” he replies

“i mean that your hands are gripping me so hard if i ever walk out of this room with you and people see us they’ll know i’m yours”

i feel his dick twitch inside of me when i said that

“guess i better bruise you up good then…” he kisses my back, “…so everyone knows you’re mine”

hmm, not so fast. i hop off his dick and say “they need to know you’re mine too”

i turn to face him and sink back into his dick. this new position is really intimate, my chest is fully pressed to his, my arms are around him and his around me.

i stay still for a second before kissing him. all of this feels so real all the sudden. he deepens the kiss that i initiated and intertwines his hand with mine.

i start bouncing again, letting go of his hand and wrapping my arms around his neck. his hands roaming up and down my sides, over my thighs and hips. 

we’re tangled up in each other like we’ve never spent a day apart, he’s grunting like we do this every night.

but i know that after this we won’t ever see each other again.

“such a pretty girl bouncing on me” he breathes out

“yeah i’m a fuckin pro rider”

he rubs me the right way and i squeeze around him with a moan, he cums inside of me again

────୨ৎ────

“you know i don’t even really like the west coast that much” i say, “i mean i love las vegas, genuinely, but id rather be in new york”

we’re on his rooms balcony, smoking while watching the sunrise. we haven’t slept and we’re both so tired but somehow both still up, just to talk to each other.

“you really need to watch friends, if you love new york you’ll love that show” he replies

his hand has been rubbing circles on my inner thigh, but not in a sexual way; something deeper and softer. so intimate, like we’ve been together forever. 

“i’ll watch it” i want to say i’ll watch it for you, i’ll tell you how i like it, but something about knowing him after this feels forbidden.

i don’t know his name and he doesn’t know mine either, i think that’s the way it’s meant to be.

what i’ve learned in my twenty two years of life is that some things need to be left alone, even when it’s bothering you at your core.

even when a hot stranger is making you feel things deeper than you’ve ever felt and you think you could really love him, sometimes you need to let go.

“lets go to sleep, princess”

“let’s go”

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

epilogue

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

────୨ৎ────

a/n : i hope u guys liked this, it's my first bts fic ever and it was inspired by an actual situation that happened to me... LOL!

let me know if you want an epilogue, it'll be heartbreaking and oh so angsty but i'll provide if that's what the public wants.

xoxo, love yall

a/n #2 : uploaded the epilogue… :3

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