#rm drabble

[axigailxo]

Hi! I may request number 5 with Namjoon that prompt was made for him 😮‍💨

5. you get turned on by his morning voice and he notices

talk to me | knj

—In which your boyfriend's morning voice turns you on and he notices.

pairing. namjoon x reader established relationship au

genre. implications of smut, slight fluff

w.c. 392 (a drabble)

—

Tossing and turning, the feeling you hoped would have subsided by this morning was still very much present.

Going to sleep needy was always a struggle as your boyfriend Namjoon has a tight schedule and can’t stay up late nor even stay for long in the mornings.

So that’s why you never bother to let him know of all the times you so badly need him.

You’re sure if he knew he’d make an exception to his schedule; anything to fulfill your needs. That’s just how he is. But you don’t want to hold him up- he has a life. A very chaotic one at that. Sex is the least of his priorities.

So you thought.

“Jagi, can you pass me my phone?”

Fresh out of a deep sleep, Namjoon turns to face you, who’s been awake for a while, struggling with that tempting problem of yours.

You gulp, the depth of his morning voice always having the same effect on you and not helping better your issue whatsoever.

Reaching over on the nightstand to retrieve said phone, you almost hand it to him before it suddenly slips out of your hold and you let out a harsh gasp.

Namjoon only stares blankly, wondering what the hell has gotten into you this morning.

“Jagi, are you okay? You seem on edge.”

Oh how you wish to be on edge.

“What? I’m fine.”

You reach down to retrieve the phone from the ground, and just as you go to sit back up with the phone in hand- you feel him scoot closer against your body.

Gasping again, you toss the phone on a random area of the sheets as you attempt to fight the arousal building at your entrance.

“Y/N~” Namjoon coos, his crotch pressed right against your ass as your back faces him. “Use your words…”

You can’t help the noise you let out, his words being spoken right into your ear as you can feel the way his bulge begins to erect against you. He lets out a playful giggle, enclosing his lips on the shell of your ear.

“My voice turns you on?” he asks casually, hand beginning to travel to your thigh. “How come I’m just now finding this out?”

You stay silent, small whimpers escaping from you occasionally.

“Let me help you baby… I can be late today.”

~~~

a/n: not proofread!

©️axigailxo 2022 all rights reserved

[hyungieyoongi]

Breeze

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Angst + Fluff + Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 600+

A/N: Requested by the sweetest bean @milk-and-moni​. I am so soft for Joonie. I hope you love it. 

Becoming friends with Namjoon was like opening a window and letting in a cool breeze on a summer day—easy, refreshing, perfect. It was the type of friendship that made you stop and smile to yourself, thinking about how lucky you were to have someone who understood you entirely. Namjoon was someone who listened so intently when you told him stories about your day. Who remembered your favorite coffee order and made you laugh so hard your sides would hurt. He would take you on trips to his favorite museums, spending hours excitedly telling you about the pieces that spoke to him. You spent more time watching his eyes light up with childlike abandon and less time looking at the priceless art adorning the walls.

Falling in love with him was even easier. It didn’t happen all at once—there was never a moment of intense realization that your feelings for this man had transformed from innocent friendship to one of love. You felt yourself starting to get nervous around him—would he like your new sweater? Did he think the pink blush you had put on your cheeks made you look pretty? Did he think your conversations were interesting enough to keep you around? It was only then that you realized this person you had let in—this breeze of fresh air that had changed the trajectory of your life—had nestled his way into your heart so completely that you didn’t know if you could get him out.

But you had to try, because you knew, deep down, that he didn’t love you that way. You had convinced yourself that this was one-sided. You needed to shut the window, stop letting the breeze through your mind and your heart. If you didn’t, it would overtake you. And you would ruin everything.

You pulled away. You stopped texting, stopped calling. He’d leave you voicemails asking you to come listen to a new song he was writing. Then he started asking if you were okay. Then he started asking what he did wrong. The worst part was, he did nothing wrong. It was you. You were the problem.

You should have known Namjoon would never let you go that easily.

“Is there a reason you’re avoiding me?” Namjoon asked gently. He was sitting on your couch, far away from you, hands flipping his hair nervously out of his face repeatedly. He had his glasses on; his eyes looked slightly smaller because of his strong prescription. He was completely endearing. “Why haven’t you been talking to me as often, or texting me about your day?”

You gulped. His earnest questions, the look of pain on his features; he was beating at the glass of the window you had slammed shut. You didn’t want to let the breeze through.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you whispered, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“Oh, sweetheart,” your eyes shot up at the endearment, meeting his gaze, full of affection and—dare you hope—love. “You could never be a bother to me.” Namjoon got up, sitting next to you, reaching for your hand to intertwine your fingers with his. The window was cracking, the breeze was starting to blow through your heart again. You could feel it. It was undeniable. “Please, let me back in.”

“Namjoon, I-I’m scared,” you admitted, eyes blurring with tears.

“You have nothing to be scared of. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned forward slightly, looking into your eyes, searching for something. Silently asking for permission. His lips touched yours in a gentle kiss, sealing the promise of the words spoken between you.

You took a deep breath; the breeze kissed your flushed cheeks. You missed it. You missed him. He leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closed, soft smile on his face. The breeze was here to stay.

---

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Taglist: @alpacaparkaseok​ , @delacyrose224​, @aianloveseven​ , @dulce-pjm​ , @milk-and-moni​, @wittyreader​, @royallyjjk​​

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[agustdiv1ne]

Hi hi congrats on your 2000 followers !!! I would like to request some fluffy Namjoon with #099a43. Thank you so much 😁

thank you hun!!! ♡♡ so sorry this took ages to be written :(

wc: 612

warnings: none!

asks are now closed

2k drabble masterlist | main masterlist

when namjoon asked that you wear something blue — particularly a lighter shade of the hue — for your upcoming date, you weren't sure what he was on about. however, as you emerge from your shared bedroom in the exact color he asked, you now understand his intent: he wanted the both of you to match.

you're definitely not complaining; you take in his brown slacks and powder blue button-up with significant appreciation. he stands up from the couch as soon as he spots you, a grin stretching across his face while his hands find your waist. 

"so where are we going, exactly?" you question in a playful tone. your fingers play with his shirt collar and move to smooth any wrinkles around his chest.

he gives your waist a light squeeze. "that's for me to know, and for you to find out, love."

you deliver a light slap to his chest with a whiny, drawn-out "c'mon," but he simply chuckles, entangling his hand with your own to lead you out the door.

much to your joy, you end up at a quaint little botanical garden on the outskirts of seoul, far from the hustle and bustle of the central part of the city. he guides you in with a hand placed on the small of your back, through arches of vibrant green vines. you explore every nook of the beautiful garden, both of you pointing out certain types of flowers that you recognize and taking brief breaks on the benches scattered about.

namjoon's thumb brushes over the top of your hand as you sit hip-to-hip beneath a wisteria tree. the sun begins to dip below the horizon and paints the sky in a spectacular explosion of pinks and purples and oranges. he suddenly stands up feom the bench and gently pulls you up with him. you send him a questioning look, but allow him to guide you to a corner of the garden that you hadn’t noticed before. 

you meander down a stone path illuminated with strings of lights to a small gazebo. the last sliver of the sun steadily disappears behind the horizon, and you look over to find namjoon beaming lovingly down at you.

you squeeze his hand. "why do i have a feeling that you're up to something?" 

he says nothing at first as he envelopes your hands in his own. your body turns to fully face him, and your eyes hold an obvious curiosity. your heartbeat quickens when he takes a deep breath.

"five years we've been together," he starts, eyes shining in the low light. "but it feels like i've known you for much longer. you understand me in a way that my own family won't ever understand. you give me strength whenever i'm overwhelmed or down. you are the loveliest, purest soul i have met in this lifetime, and i feel so honored that you have decided to love me."

you whisper his name as he lets go of your hands for one to dip into his trouser pocket. a gasp passes your lips when he presents you with a glimmering ring. 

he looks up at you with hopeful eyes. "i can't fathom spending the rest of my life without you by my side. will you marry me?"

you feel yourself nodding at him. tears dot your eyes while you exclaim a joyful, teary, "yes!"

your heart swells in your chest as he slips the ring onto your finger, rising up to press a sweet kiss to your lips. you feel him smile into the kiss until you finally pull away.

"kim namjoon," you whisper, leaning your forehead against his. "i am so in love with you."

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[emerald-notes]

Singularity

Fandom: BTS

Pairing: Namjoon × Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit!” I huffed out as I had to climb the stairs up to the third floor and my poor lungs wouldn’t want to cooperate as always, “I forgot my water bottle at home again.”

“You can have mine, no problem!” a boy handed me his half filled plastic bottle.

I usually follow one rule while drinking water from other people’s bottles. I ask them if they touch their lips to the bottles opening while drinking and usually refuse to drink from the same bottle if they do.

That day, however, I didn’t have the mind to do that as I straight up uncapped the bottle to finish the whole thing in one go. When I looked up to say ‘thanks’ and ‘sorry’, he was already gone. As it was almost time for the next class, I supposed he hurried to get to his. I remembered the boy’s name to be Namjoon.

Namjoon was a boy I would often see in between classes. Sometimes we would nod, ask when the next class was or simply smile at each other. And then, we’d go our separate ways. I knew him just like that. I didn’t remember ever having a full conversation with him.

I didn’t see him again after that day. But I heard some rumors about him around the campus not long after. He was accused of saying something that sparked controversy. Since I didn’t know him in person I never expressed my opinion on the matter. But I had a lingering wish to meet him again, to return his empty plastic bottle that I still carry in my bag.

That wish came true when I finally saw him again.

He was having lunch at an empty table at the corner of the cafeteria. There was no one around so I walked up to him right away.

“I’m so sorry I could not return your bottle that day!” I had told him.

“What bottle?” He looked at me with genuine confusion.

I took out the said bottle from my bag to put on the table. Namjoon let out a chuckle at its sight. “You wanted to return this?”

“I know, it might not be a huge deal to you. But I literally can’t sleep in peace until I return what I borrow from someone else. Be it a pen or book or whatever.” I explained myself clearly to which Namjoon nodded and took the empty bottle off the table.

“I’ll take it back then.” He said, “Hope it gives you some peace.”

He shook his head slightly and laughed. For some reason, I felt overwhelmed seeing him laugh like that. His eyes completely vanished behind the wrinkles as he laughed. He looked so unreal. I couldn’t make up my mind why I was feeling that way at such a small act of someone I barely knew. But I had a feeling that it was a moment I would never witness again. I felt the need to capture it in a picture so that I could look at it whenever I wanted to.

However, I didn't take his picture that day. Instead I stood there for a while, enjoying the moment as it was. He didn’t invite me to sit next to him. I wished he did.

The next time I heard about Namjoon was from a group of friends talking about college in general. I wasn't minding their gossip until I heard them speak about him.

"Good grades aren't everything, you see!" One of them said, "you need to have a better character to not be kicked out of school like that."

I was shocked to find what happened to Namjoon regarding those rumors. As much as I wanted to interrupt their conversation, I couldn't bring myself to do so. Yet my heart couldn't believe a word of the dirty talks I heard around. Even though I wasn't a friend of his, neither was I an acquaintance, in my heart, I still pictured him as the smiling boy who had helped me at the time I needed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: Inspired by a dream...

My Masterlist

[jinkookspencil]

depictions of love & lust | knj

an art gallery date with namjoon wasn't uncommon.... but the erotic art certainly was.

Description/TW: ~1.6k words / Namjoon x Reader (F) / fluff / drabble / suggestive but no smut / established relationship / one-shot drabble / any feedback welcome! / happy rm3 title & release announcement!! indigo!! <3

Another day of your trip, another art gallery with a side of exploration. This was how most free days with Namjoon were spent, whether you were at home or traveling abroad - if there was art to be seen or nature to be appreciated, Namjoon would find a way to do so. You were never an art person, and could only recall the very famous artists and paintings before dating Namjoon - Van Gogh, Da Vinci, and Monet…. Then, going on a trip to an art gallery or a museum would be a day that stood out - a once-in-a-year thing at most. Now, it filled up your days…. But you never complained.

Art fueled Namjoon, you could see it in his eyes when he studied it, visited galleries, and talked to you about it. It didn’t fuel him in his career, but more so as a person. It was an expansive, limitless world for such a complex, creative mind like his to explore and escape into. You can’t say you feel the exact same way, seeking escape in the natural world around you, even more than Namjoon did, but you could understand his love and need for it, and that was enough.

Your love and appreciation for art only grew a tiny bit - it’s hard for Namjoon not to rub off on you - but that wasn’t the reason you gladly accompanied him on every trip….. You heart melts and races when he talk about art so passionately, just seeing him in his element, and you long for the nights at home he talks about you as in the same way, whether it’s through his personal poems, love letters, and sweet nothings between the two of you past midnight or the confessions that make it to his songs….

But you also kinda want to jump on him. 

Intelligence was always considered an attractive quality, but you had never understood how until Namjoon. Even when you didn’t understand the entirety of his explanations or interpretations, well, especially then….. Namjoon was even more attractive than he normally was, which you never thought would be possible. How he could gather so much from a piece of art, all on his own, was awe-inspiring. No matter how hard you try, your brain will just never work the same way Namjoon’s does….. but his brain lit a fire in yours. 

Sure, the rush wasn’t the same as it was at the very beginning of your relationship growing into more of a comfort as time flew by, and you visited more and more galleries, but you still can’t help but feel like you love Namjoon little more every day, and art days added a tiny extra to your daily dose of love.  

So, an art trip with Namjoon was always a treat - what more could you want than spending hours seeing your partner happy and on fire, while he also wanted to share that happiness and passion with you?! 

What did I do to deserve him?!, you think to yourself, as you always do on one of these days.

“Ah, let’s turn left,” he says as you step foot into the gallery, a step ahead of you and holding your hand in his. “Let’s start there.”

As always, he’s silent at the very beginning, taking it all in. You’re almost done with the entire floor, a section by the entrance to the hall remaining, but you knew you’d both immediately start over as soon as you had finished seeing it, the second time with Namjoon’s commentary and photo ops. 

But by the time you get to the remaining section, the theme of the artwork around you seemed to have….. changed. If each section had a different theme, you hadn’t realized, only catching glimpses and waiting until Namjoon’s explanations, but you couldn’t look away nor look directly at the art you were suddenly surrounded by… Leaving Namjoon’s side to hurriedly check out the rest of the artwork, your suspicions were confirmed.

Most of the artwork in this section was either incredibly suggestive or straight-up erotic and sexual.

You find Namjoon standing in front of a painting, staring intently at the sensual scene it displays. 

“Uhm, Namjoon….  You good?”

“Hmm?” he turns. “Oh yeah, I’m just fascinated by this painting. The artist did this during a very tough time in their life and chose to paint their desires. Look at it, baby. See this section here?”, he points to the middle of the painting. “This represents his desire for true love rather than the frivolity of sex on its own, sex without love. It’s beautiful.”

How the fuck did he take this so seriously?! 

“Mhmm,” you say, breathing slowly as Namjoon continues, talking about more of the surrounding artwork. 

“See this one?”, he stops by another, what seemed to be the only non-sexual piece in the gallery, with abstract blobs and messy lines. “It’s all about lust."

Lust? How did he get lust from random shapes?! And was his gaze suddenly more intense? Were his muscles that big yesterday? You could make out his arm under his coat, for heaven’s sake!

All you wanted was to recreate the scenes from the art surrounding you, but, now talking about the type of paint some artist used, Namjoon looked so lost in his own excitement, while you were lost in your imagination. You snap back to reality once you hear the words, “I could use your input with this."

“Hmm?” you coo. 

“I want your interpretation on this.”

Namjoon had asked you the question in the past, and it always felt like you were being quizzed on something you had never studied and would surely fail. But apparently, sometimes you helped. There was that one time, Namjoon asked you how you felt about a painting and all you said was that it seemed sad - little did you know those simple words would make you stay at the gallery for another hour. Apparently, Namjoon had taken away an entirely different feeling and spent ages quietly trying to understand your perspective before asking you about it. So though there were definitely moments Namjoon obviously knew you got close to nothing from certain works, you also knew that he wouldn’t ask if he wasn’t serious.

“Me?” you make sure. 

“Yes, you, baby. I want your input. What do you think of it?”

You stare up at the painting. It’s relatively tame next to the abundance of erotic art surrounding you, depicting a man biting and grabbing onto a woman’s neck, the painting cutting off just at the top of her bum, where his veiny arm rested, no, squeezed, as indicated by the artist’s added detail of the dents his hand made in her plump bum, covered in stretch marks. Neither figure’s face showed, but with the way his face dug into her neck, her head tilted backward with her arms up in the air, it was clear that they were both feeling pleasurable... 

“I… think it’s sexy,” you admit, looking down. “Very sexy."

“I thought so,” he nods. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Y/N, but is this what they call the female gaze? Like…. doesn’t it say depict so much without showing too much? His… possessiveness? But also, his love? Her love too? See the way he grabs onto her? It’s gentle but rough. And her arms raised? They’re not in his hair or on his body, this is entirely about her pleasure. She’s giving herself to him but she’s still in control here, we can already tell that - she’s allowing him to be possessive of her. I think this might be me overthinking it but I think that’s depicted by the fact that there’s no nudity and we don’t even see her behind, it shows the artist having control of the scene. She’s brilliant. Also notice the way the bodies are in different colors but have specks of the other’s colors within them? That’s love, and how it should be. Again, it’s not lust. It’s two separate people coming together, but still making up tiny bits of the other. You know?”

And all you could say was that it was sexy.

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug.

You only realize how hot you’d become with the next breath you let out, which comes out in a deep exhale. 

“So, is this it? The female gaze? Does it even exist?”, he asks seriously. 

“Uh—", you begin, but your voice comes out shaky. A bead of sweat drops down your back.

Fuck it.

“I think it must be the female gaze because I kind of, need you right now, Namjoon.”

“What?!”, he jolts, but you grab his arm.

“I need you,” you whisper. “Now.”

“Just… so suddenly?!”, he asks.

“Suddenly?! Namjoon?! You know you can easily get me this way when you talk and explain art shit, and this, and you….”, you whimper.

“Baby, it’s art,” he laughs.

“It’s art all about sex. It’s making me feel things and YOU are making me feel things. I don’t know shit about the female gaze, I think you did more reading on it than I have but all I know is that…..,” your voice lowers. “I need you… I need to touch you, I need you to touch me, I…. I don’t think I can wait too long.”

He sighs. “I always want you to feel something at galleries and museums, hoped a piece of art impacted you the way it impacted me…. and this is what you feel,” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s a start, I guess. Sure, baby,” he whispers against your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist and squeezing your plush skin there.

“Mmm,” you let out. “Namjoon, don’t do that I’m already…”

“Fuck, okay,” he laughs, the passion in his eyes replaced by menace. “Let’s go.”

[btsgotjams27]

mistakes we knew we were making | knj

young, careless, and in love. that's how mistakes are made.

✨ title: mistakes we knew we were making | ✨ pairing: namjoon x f!reader ✨ word count: 1.9k | ✨ rating: pg-13 ✨ genre/au: slice of life, marriage!au, failed marriage, divorce!au, exes!au, angst, romance ✨ warnings:  mentions of sex, alcohol consumption ✨ song: as the crow flies by clare bowen & sam palladio ✨ a/n: this is just a small little one-shot for joonie’s birthday. i’m a sucker for romance and angst? idk why lol. this probably isn’t the best thing i’ve written but i wanted to get something out for my joonie’s birthday. also, thank you to @cherrysoulth for being my beta and always being so encouraging with your cute little comments. ily.

Kim Namjoon.

It's easy to fall in love with him. He's smart, witty, handsome, and also a complete dork. Who wouldn't fall for him? They'd be a fool not to.

He practically swept you off your feet with his words. It didn't take much to notice him amongst his group of friends. You could tell he was different - in a good way, and you were right.

After several late-night talks into the wee hours of the morning, you discover the uncanny similarities between the pair of you - both idealistic, which became a bad thing. The two of you were constantly amused by daydreams, egging each other on without actually putting yourselves to good use and making your dreams happen.

Emotions ran deep for you and him. While he was good at expressing and communicating everything he felt, it was the complete opposite for you. He never liked how you shut him out, keeping him at bay from your emotions and thoughts.

Namjoon was brilliant, sometimes too brilliant, which intimidated you, and at times, you felt he was too good for you. You were brilliant and impressive in other ways, too; that's how the pair of you fit together so well.

He also had a way with words. His use of language made you marvel with heart eyes whenever he spoke. You could sit there and listen to him ramble on and on about humanity, injustices happening around the world, or a new random obsession he came to adore. So, in your eyes, he could do no wrong.

Twenty-one years old, and the pair of you were fools. Fools, so in love - coming up with ridiculous ideas, leading to spontaneous trips, insane, passionate sex, and heated arguments. But all these things made you love Namjoon and want to continue on this path of romance and destruction.

"We should get married," Namjoon casually suggested while the two of you were at breakfast, almost choking on your buttered toast.

"What did you just say?" You needed confirmation to make sure you didn't hear things. The two of you joked here and there, calling each other hubby and wifey for the hell of it, but you didn't think he was legit thinking about actually getting married.

Some of you found it thrilling and exciting, and you looked at your ring finger for a split second. You loved the thought of being claimed by Kim Namjoon - that you were his and no one else's.

He put down his fork and intently looked into your eyes, "Let's do it. I love you, and you love me. Easy peasy, pumpkin squeezy." Namjoon grabbed his fork again, chewing down his toast and a piece of bacon.

You stared at him blankly. Actually, no, it's probably not that easy. There were a lot of things one needed to do if one wanted to get married - like a marriage license. You were practical, and Namjoon was not.

"You're kidding me, right?"

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, "Does it look like I'm kidding, wifey?"

You let out a sigh. Whenever Namjoon set his mind on something, he wouldn't let it go, no matter how outrageous the idea was.

"What about our taxes?"

He laughed. "You're worried about how we're going to file taxes?"

You scoffed, "Well, one of us has to be realistic right now because I think you've had one too many bottomless mimosas today."

One too many mimosas later, and the pair of you found yourself down at city hall, signing your marriage license. Since this was so last minute, you returned to the restaurant to grab the hostess who was getting off work to be your witness at your civil ceremony. Confused as hell, but she also wanted to see whether the two of you would last, so she agreed to this insane scheme.

The two of you looked pretty decent for your last-minute wedding. Namjoon looked dapper in his dark blue sweater and black dress pants while you were in a white sundress. The hostess, Lana, picked up a bouquet from the random guy on the street corner and, in addition, grabbed two ring pops on the way before catching up to the pair of you.

It was perfect.

…until it wasn't.

"I don't see the same person I loved when I look at you anymore," Namjoon said with sadness.

Your bags were packed and ready to go—three years of marriage down the drain. And you didn't want to say it, but were these years wasted?

"That's because I'm not the same stupid 21-year-old girl you once knew. I've grown up Namjoon, and so should you. We can't keep living in dreams that never come true."

Life took a turn, and somehow you ended up in New York City, where Namjoon was rumored to be. You didn't keep up with him after the two of you separated. Why would you? You deleted all your socials and had a new circle of friends, and there was no need to know about his life other than that you heard he remarried shortly after the two of you were officially divorced.

It was not surprising at all. He was always the romantic in your relationship, and you figured he was still young. He should get remarried, and you had hoped the next person would be everything he dreamed of and more.

But every now and again, you'd be reminded of Namjoon. There was no escaping him, whether it was a book you think he'd like, or an ad for a new art exhibit rolling into town - a part of him continued to linger throughout the years you were without him.

When your boss threw a launch party for their newest book, you had no choice but to attend, you were their latest editor, so you needed to make your rounds and kiss up to people.

The newest book titled 'Mistakes We Knew We Were Making' by RM was all the rage for the autobiographical fiction genre - a masterpiece, some would say. You didn't have a chance to read it yet, but it was on your list.

Your heart dropped when you walked in, seeing Kim Namjoon chatting with your boss. He looked up and caught your eye, and you being you, quickly darted amongst the crowd.

When you found an empty hallway to simmer down, the breath you were holding in was finally released, but it wasn't long before you heard someone calling for you. "Ah, there you are! Come on! You need to meet the author."

You flashed a thin smile to your boss. You'd be okay. It was just Kim Namjoon, your ex-husband. No biggie. You had no idea why he was here, but you were sure you'd find out sooner or later.

Immediately, your eyes spotted Namjoon amidst the crowd; it was hard not to notice him when he was practically a foot taller than the sea of women surrounding him. And, of course, he was as gorgeous as ever - his chest virtually swelling underneath the black turtleneck he was sporting, and his hair, god, his hair. It was at your favorite length - long enough to tug and pull while–

Okay, no–stop thinking about your ex-husband and yourself in compromising positions.

Your boss continued beelining her way towards Namjoon while you followed closely behind.

No.

No.

He can't–he can't be the author, could he? RM? Was it a pen name? Is this what he was up to all these years? Did he finally make his dreams come true?

With Namjoon's dimpled chuckle charming the panties off of the women around him, he looked up at your boss when she made her way through the sea of women clawing at a piece of him. Elena, your boss, stepped aside to introduce you to who you assumed was the author of the hour.

Were you hoping he was just an acquaintance of your boss? Perhaps.

Well, only because you knew if he was, in fact, RM, the author, the publishing company would continue to work with him if he produced more manuscripts.

Namjoon smiled, dimly letting your name roll off his tongue, which made your boss narrow her eyes, taking a second look at the two of you.

"Do you two know each other? Elena asked with curiosity laced in her tone.

"We…uh, go way back," you answered vaguely, without going into further detail. You were sure Elena would ask later to get the full scoop on you and her new author.

Namjoon leaned in. "It's good to see you, baby," he whispered smugly.

You shook your head. His arrogance was also another thing that got him into trouble.

As the night continued, you did your best to mingle and stay clear of Namjoon. You knew you'd have to talk to him at some point, but did it have to be at your company's party?

"So, how's your wife?" You asked when he sat next to you at the bar counter, and you wanted to get that question out early to set your boundaries in case he had any ideas.

Namjoon chuckled, "Divorced."

"Guess you couldn't keep her satisfied either," you teased, waving the bartender down and placing your and Namjoon's drink order with him.

Namjoon was fantastic in bed, so you were sure that wasn't the issue.

He shook his head, "No, that wasn't it."

"Oh?" You questioned, wondering what happened between the two but didn't want to pry. It was none of your business.

Again, Namjoon knew how you functioned, and you weren't going to ask, so he wanted to tell you instead. "She wasn't you," he said casually before thanking the bartender for his drink.

It was hard suppressing the smile creeping up. He always knew the right things to say, but this time, you didn't know if he was genuine or not. "Wasn't me, huh? Joonie, we were disastrous together."

He didn't deny your claim because it was mostly true. But to him, that's what made him feel alive. He missed the daydreams and adventures, the unknowns of the future - and life with his most recent ex-wife became boring, ordinary, predictable. To be honest, he couldn't stop thinking about you and where the two of you would be today if you had stayed together.

After taking a sip of your cocktail and swirling it around in your glass, you turned to Namjoon, your knees slightly brushing against his side. "Do you think we would have found each other in an alternate timeline?" You asked while continuing to swivel on the bar stool.

He quickly peered in your direction, smiling at the drink before him, mimicking you by swirling his glass around, shifting his position so his knees were now brushing against yours., "I don't know, maybe?"

Namjoon knew how much you loved entertaining the thought of different timelines and alternate universes - the what-ifs, the maybes, the what could have been. He was amused that it was still your thing after all these years.

"Do you think we would have made the same mistakes?" You asked, tapping the side of your glass, unsure of why you even asked in the first place. It's not like you were looking for an answer.

Namjoon chuckled before taking a sip of his whiskey, grimacing at the last drops sliding down his throat. He stood up, and you assumed he didn't want to have this conversation with you anymore, and you'd completely understand if he didn't. It's hard rehashing the past.

You looked at him with a thin smile, letting him know that it was okay if he wanted to leave. You didn't need an answer, and it was just nice being in his presence again.

He placed his hand on the back of your stool, leaning in. "In whatever timeline or universe we're in, I'd choose to keep making the same mistakes if it meant crossing paths with you."

[dirtybtssnaps]

Hey Namjoon. I know you're tired lately. Is there any way I can help you relieve that stress?

Genre: Lovely Smut

Pairing: Dom Kim Namjoon (Rm) and Sub Female Reader

“Don’t worry about me moonlight, I’m fine I swear it just works as usual for me. You’ve been pretty clingy lately though, I’m pretty sure you’re looking for something a little more than just helping me to relieve some stress. You know now that I think about it we do have a lot more sex with were stressed, you know you can just ask me to do it with you whenever you want just ask me to have sex with you. You can even text me if you want and I’ll come to or I’ll get everything ready for you.”

-Kim Namjoon (Rm)

[tanniesafterdark]

Solutions - KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Warning: smut, oral sex, reader has TMJ

A/N: this is oddly specific but the reason I wanted to write it is because this is a situation that a ton of my friends and I have been stuck in and don’t really know what to do so we were all awkwardly struggling. But I think making compromises and adaptions is hot af

• your relationship is new and exciting and you’re starting to get intimate together

•it’s an exciting time but you tend to keep delaying going further with him

•after postponing a few times, Joon decides to confront you

•he’s super sweet and a little concerned

•“if you’re not ready that’s okay baby we can take our time”

• “It’s not that,” you sigh before sitting up on the bed and looking into those beautiful eyes of his

•“I feel like I’m going to let you down…”

•“what? that’s not possible baby. why do you think that?”

•that’s when you explain that you have Temporomandibular joint dysfunction, known as TMJ, which can cause stiffness and pain around your jaw, ear and temple

• it was embarrassing but you shared how you feared not being able to perform oral on him because of the pain or even the possibility of your jaw stiffening up

• expecting him to be disappointed, since many men have made it very clear that getting head was important, you were slightly taken back when he took your hands and smiled

• “baby you don’t need to worry. our relationship and intimacy is more than just you sucking my dick,” he chuckled

• “but I still feel bad… like I can’t give something to you”

• “that doesn’t matter. and I’m sure this is so much more common than you think

•he pulls his phone off the nightstand and literally searches “blow jobs with TMJ” before pointing out many articles and forums of people sharing the same situation

•“we can find other ways to have fun with that pretty mouth of yours” he smirked

•and you did. before even getting to full on sex, you took your time experimenting

•you found that kitten licking up and down his length was something he really enjoyed

•when your jaw wasn’t painful you’d be able to take part of him in your mouth and let your tongue do most of the work, while massaging the base and his balls in rhythm

•he kept still while you performed orally on him to make sure he didn’t aggravate things and would check in with you, insisting you let him know the moment things became an issue

•he was very much a fan of you licking under his shaft and tracing his veins with your tongue rather than taking him into your mouth properly

•after much exploration, you two found what really got him going without causing you damage and your bond and intimacy grew closer after working together for solutions, your communication being the best it could ever be

do not copy or re upload my work©

[jangsxntiger]

[ Namjoon & Domestic AU ] -

Warnings: None

Requested: Yes 🥺

Masterlist

Namjoon is a simple man. He takes his coffee black. He prefers granary to wholemeal and he knows he’ll marry you one day. 

Saturday afternoons are for visiting the supermarket. Namjoon backtracks down the aisles to pick up the things you have forgotten without complaint. When he returns, he finds you trying to pull something from the highest shelf. He watches you struggle for a moment, almost falling from your toes as you desperately reach whatever it is that you’re after.  He could stretch his arm and take it himself, but instead, he places his hands securely on your waist and lifts you upwards. The little sound of surprise that escapes from your mouth stirs a warm feeling in his chest, but the sound of your laughter as he sets you down, laundry detergent in hand, has him wishing your wedding day around sooner.  

When you’re too inundated with last-minute work to go with him, he takes the grocery list left on the countertop and goes to the store alone. Namjoon smiles to himself halfway along the vegetable aisle. In between green beans and broccoli, there is a note to say you love him. He has old lists folded between the banknotes in his wallet, all written in your handwriting, all with his name at the bottom, i’s dotted with hearts. 

Sundays are set aside for restoring some sort of order to your apartment. Namjoon wrestles with the corners of your freshly laundered bedsheets. He laughs as he watches you raise them to your nose to smell floral detergent clinging to the cotton. He dusts in the places he knows you can’t reach, waters the plants that are hung too high. Your apartment might not be the biggest, but he feels too far away even from one room to the next and every now and then pauses what he is doing to find you. He places delicate kisses on your mouth, or kisses you breathless, before disappearing again. He likes to complain about the too-sweet vanilla candle burning in the kitchen, but he knows he will miss it when it is gone. 

When it comes to cooking dinner, he lets you take the lead. Even after all this time together, you haven’t been able to improve his culinary skills beyond boiling water. But he is on hand to top up your wine glass and skip through the songs you don’t want to hear on your playlist. He stands behind and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder as you stir whatever it is on the stove. 

Namjoon insists on washing the dishes whilst you rest. He makes a mess most of the time, sloshing water onto the kitchen floor, sending soap suds across the room at you. Even when you know it is coming, you’re unable to escape from his wet, soapy hands as he reaches for the sides of your face to hold you still. It is messier still – water dripping down your neck and onto your shirt, but he places lingering kisses on your skin and the water soaking into your shirt is almost entirely forgotten about.

On weekdays, when he returns home in the early hours of the morning after a particularly busy day at work, he moves through your apartment as quietly as he possibly can. Namjoon knows he is clumsy, sometimes he is all thumbs and sends his keys flying across the kitchen, or stumbles over the corner of the carpet, but at three am, when he knows you are sleeping, he moves carefully. He finds you on the sofa, a coffee cup half empty on the table and he supposes that you must have tried to wait up for him. He is even more cautious as he slips his hands around your waist – it is awkward and certainly untidy enough to shake you awake, but he manages to lift you into his arms. He hears a soft huff against his ear and feels you shift slightly as he starts towards your bedroom and he wonders whether he had woken you after all. After a moment, your body settles back onto his chest, maybe he had disturbed you, but you curl into him and let him believe that he hasn't.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Emily x Reader after Reader has a sh relapse, Emily patches and her up and assures her she's still beautiful by slow, gentle, loving sex and lots of cuddling please?

You got it, anon! Thanks for the request! :) Hope you like it!

Burning

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, self-harm, depression, mental illness, sex, fingering, etc., injuries due to self-harm, brief mentions of an eating disorder, some explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: With Emily away on a case and a depressive episode hitting you hard, you fall back into a pattern you thought you'd kicked a long time ago. When she comes home and discovers what you've done, you're afraid it'll be too much for her. Emily does her best to show you that it's not.

You’d been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for what felt like hours, but was probably mere minutes. Time warped itself when the urges took hold, every second a lifetime of effort, until it became all the potential lives you might live stacked one on top of the other, and they were too heavy for you to carry.

The hand that held the unlit match was shaking, and you seesawed between the unbearable desire to scratch a painful itch and the knowledge that self-hatred that would flood you afterward. But at least the self-hatred and the pain would be something to feel, other than the abject hopelessness that had seemed to swallow you up over the last week.

You’d known a depressive episode was coming before Emily left. You could always feel them coming. But what were you supposed to say? Don’t go save people from a terrorist cell? Stay here with me because I’m scared I’m getting depressed and I need you? It’d be pathetic. You were pathetic. And it wasn’t Emily’s job to keep your mental illness at bay.

But she’d been gone longer than you expected–over a week now. And your depressive episode had hit you harder than you thought it would. You’d called out of work, you’d binged on food delivery, then hated yourself afterward, staring into the mirror feeling lower and lower and lower. Until the only way you could think to stop sinking was to shock yourself out of it.

You knew it wasn’t wise or healthy. You knew you’d feel even worse once the pain subsided. You knew that a relapse would make it that much harder to stop next time. You knew that if Emily was here, she would stop you, she would hide the matches and the lighters, she would be so, so sad that you’d even thought about hurting yourself.

But despite knowing all these things, the hunger for fire, for pain, was too much to resist. You scratched the head of the match against the matchbox and the flame leapt into existence. Your go-to spot in young adulthood had been your arms, but the burns wouldn't fade before Emily got back, and she’d notice them on your arms. This time, you held the match to the upper side of your abdomen, where your arms would hopefully hide the marks.

You scrunched your eyebrows and winced as the flame licked at your skin, the pain white and bright and hot. You wished you could explain to people that odd, addictive mixture of self-loathing and dopamine that hit you and made you feel simultaneously worse and better. You wished people understood the desire for it, that sometimes you wanted to feel worse because feeling worse made you feel better. But it was hard to explain. Even harder to understand. So you didn’t bother most of the time. You lit match after match until the box was empty, until your side was scattered with raised, red-white blotches, like a constellation of all the shitty things you’d ever been through or felt.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and hated what you saw. And it felt good to hate yourself, like a guilty pleasure.

You jumped at the sound of the apartment door opening and closing, and cold panic flooded your system.

“Hey, baby, I’m home!” Emily called from the entryway.

You quickly pulled a loose t-shirt over your head, wincing as the fabric brushed over the burns. She wasn’t supposed to be home yet. She hadn’t texted or called. She’ll hate me, you thought. She’ll hate me if she finds out.

Of course, Emily knew you struggled with self-harm. But you’d been in a really good spot when you’d started dating and had, for the most part, stayed in that really good spot for your entire relationship. You were in therapy. You had healthy coping mechanisms. You hadn’t relapsed in years. You didn’t know what had made today different from every other bad day in the last few years, but you knew you didn’t want Emily to know.

You silently cursed yourself for using all the matches; there were none left to light a candle in the bathroom to mask the scent of burning. You ran to meet her in the living room, hoping that by heading her off, the smell would have time to dissipate.

“Hi, honey,” you greeted her, forcing a smile. You took both her hands in yours to try and prevent her touching your side, which still felt as if it was on fire. You stood on tiptoes to kiss her, and she smiled, leaning in.

“I missed you,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around you. You flinched and inhaled sharply as her fingers grazed the burns.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, avoiding her eyes. “I just, um… fell earlier.”

Her hands fluttered over you, a worried expression on her face. “You fell!? Where!? Like, how hard?”

“Not that hard,” you said, trying to squirm away. “It doesn’t hurt too bad. Ow!” Emily had placed a gentle hand at your side and you couldn’t help your outburst.

“Well, honey, if it hurts that bad, you need to let me see it. We might need to go to the ER or something.”

You knew you were done for when she grabbed your wrist, hard. Emily was much stronger than you, so instead of fighting, you went numb.

You felt your whole world stop as she lifted up your shirt to see the scattered burns. You felt tears prick at your eyes. There were too many marks, and they were too symmetrical to have been an accident. You knew it, and Emily knew it, too.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that her eyes were wet with tears she wasn’t going to let herself cry because you needed someone strong right now. If you’d looked at her, you would have seen a mixture of sadness and pity and heartbreak and undying love. You’d have seen the face of someone who wanted nothing more than for you to be okay.

“Y/N,” Emily managed after a moment. “Did you do this to yourself?”

You nodded, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Today?”

You nodded again.

“How long ago?”

You looked at the ceiling, willing yourself not to cry. “Right before you walked in.”

You hated yourself. You hated yourself even more because you knew that Emily would feel awful. She’d think that if she’d just been a few minutes earlier, she could have prevented this. And you never wanted Emily to feel like your mental illness was her fault or her responsibility.

“Come here,” she said, gently taking your hand and guiding you to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, making sure the water was cool but not cold, then slowly pulled your clothes off. She nodded toward the shower and you got in, shivering under the chilly stream.

Emily sighed and sat down on the toilet lid, watching you. She looked tired, so tired. You hated to be another thing that exhausted her, another thing she had to take care of and fix.

“You should sit down,” she added quietly. “You’re gonna have to be in there for a while. Until they stop burning.”

You sat on the tiled floor, the water leaching the pain away from the burn marks, leaving only disgust and self-loathing in their place. You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face, trying and failing not to cry.

Your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. You heard Emily stand and were sure she was going to leave. Why wouldn’t she? She deserved to. She deserved not to have to deal with you.

You jumped a little as Emily lowered herself into the shower next to you, clothes abandoned on the bathroom floor, and wrapped her arm around your shoulder. She pressed her face into yours as the shower drenched you both.

“Shh,” she soothed, careful to avoid your burns. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry, Em,” you wept, rocking. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she repeated. “You don’t need to be sorry. I love you. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I hate myself,” you whispered.

Emily gently grabbed your face and tilted it toward her. There were tears in her eyes, too. “Baby, please don’t say that.”

“I can’t help it.” Your voice was so quiet, so small, the sound of the shower almost drowned it out.

“That’s okay,” Emily said, brushing strands of wet hair out of your face. “We’re gonna get you some help, okay?”

You looked in her eyes then for the first time since she’d discovered the burn marks. You didn’t know what you’d expected to see: annoyance, disgust, hatred, or worst of all, ambivalence. But there was none of that in Emily’s eyes. Only love and concern.

Even so, you were scared to ask what you needed to ask. “Do you still love me?”

“Oh, honey, of course I do. I could never stop loving you.”

And then you kissed her. You kissed her with the cool water pouring down around your bodies. With your skin hot from the burns and from your aching love for Emily. You kissed her desperately, hungrily, like someone clinging to a lifeboat, and Emily was. She was your lifeboat. And for Emily’s part, she was gentle, almost too gentle, as if you might break at any moment.

You wrapped your legs and arms around her and she held you so carefully, so mindful of your burns. You shuddered in the cool water as your hips pushed against her.

Emily moaned into your mouth, her hands faltering for a moment.

“Y/N,” she said breathlessly, pulling away to hold your face in her hands. “We don’t have to do this." She looked at you a moment longer, then added, "I love you.”

You kissed her again. Her mouth. Her forehead. Her collarbone. Emily’s chest heaved into you and your heart beat rapidly.

“Please,” you begged. “Show me.”

Emily pulled you into her, letting her tongue and her lips roam over your neck, letting her hips meet yours as the water surrounded you, soothing your burns the way Emily soothed the roiling, burning despair inside of you.

“I love you,” she whispered as she kissed your eyelids. “I love you,” she whispered as she pressed her hands into the soft flesh of your ass. “I love you,” she whispered as she slipped her fingers inside of you. You bit back a moan and trembled against her, your body pulsing around her.

She fucked you slowly, tenderly, as if it was both your first time and your last, though this was neither. And she kept saying it–“I love you”–again and again, never stopping, so that all the darkness in your mind, all the self-doubt, didn’t have any room to make itself heard.

You let out a strangled groan as your body tensed around her, and when your pleasure flooded you, it was like you were on fire. And this fire was so much better, louder, brighter, than any flame you’d ever held to your body. It was a burning that consumed you, one that would leave you new and glistening afterward instead of scarred and in ashes.

You fell limp against her as she removed her fingers, kissing your forehead, your collarbone, your mouth, swirling her tongue with yours until you felt drunk on her. “I love you,” she said, and you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of hearing it. “I love you.”

You were quiet as she turned off the shower head. Quiet as you both dried off, as Emily gently pressed a towel to your side, making sure your burns were clean and dry. She sat you on the toilet lid as she pulled gauze squares and antibacterial ointment out of the bathroom cabinet, spreading the ointment on the gauze, then pressing it gently to your skin.

“Lift your arms up,” she said quietly, as she circled your body with bandages, wrapping it just tight enough that it wouldn’t shift in the night.

She knelt down in front of you and caressed your face. “Bed?” she asked. You nodded.

“You go ahead,” she said, patting your leg. “I’ll be right there.”

You felt self-doubt start creeping back in as you laid in bed on top of the covers, your burns still too hot to sleep underneath. When Emily came into the room, she carried a glass of water and a bottle of pills.

“Take these,” she told you, handing you a few. You drank and swallowed obediently.

She lay down in the bed and motioned you over. “Come here and let me hold you.”

You rested your face in the crook of her neck, and she played with your hair, careful to avoid your burns.

“I love you,” she whispered after a few minutes, kissing the top of your head.

“You said.” You meant it to be funny, but your heart wasn’t in it. Not yet.

“And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

You were quiet for a minute, then spoke. “I love you, too, Em.” You nuzzled your way closer to her, hoping against hope that her arms around you were enough to keep the darkness and the numbness away for the night.,

And as you drifted off, she kept saying it–“I love you.” And then a kiss on your head.

As your eyelids fluttered closed–“I love you.” And she pressed her face to your forehead.

As your breath slowed and evened, and your body went limp–“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

[mykoreanlove]

my only one

Your engagement party was a full blast - the pittoreske venue was filled with the people you loved most. Everybody was dancing, drinking and celebrating your upcoming wedding.

You had been shaking firm hands and giving out heartfelt hugs all night long, so you snuck out onto the balcony to take a break.

The balcony was covered in golden fairy lights, slightly illuminating the breathtaking view in front of you.

You didn’t turn around as you noticed the door open, you had a gut feeling who it would be.

Strong arms hugged you from behind and a raspy voice whispered in your ear - your home had found you.

„Hey“, he whispered, „you okay?“

You nodded silently and grabbed his arm, squeezing lightly.

„Am now“, you smiled.

Namjoon chuckled and hid his face in the crook of your neck, resting silently for a moment or two.

„You know… you can still say no.“, he stated nervously.

You laughed out loud, filling his ear with the vibration of your amusement.

„Now why would I do that?“

Namjoon hugged you even tighter, merging into one once more.

„So you really mean it, huh?“

„Joon, you’re stuck with me. Forever.“

„Forever? Really?“

„Yes, you dumbass, forever. Were you really doubting?“

He let out a deep sigh, as if he was finally releasing the anxiety he carried in his heart.

„It’s just that sometimes I feel like this is too good to be true. You’re too good to be true, y/n.“

You pushed his head back gently and turned around, looking up into his saddened eyes.

„Listen up, big boy. I love you and you love me. It’s supposed to feel this good.“

You saw his cheeks redden, as he averted his gaze embarrassed. You reached for his big hands and squeezed them as tightly as you could.

„I’m not running away, Joon. I know you are the one for me.“

He turned to face you and smiled warmly.

„The one?“

Namjoon was a confident man, taking extreme pride in his talents and intellect but the slightest doubt could turn him into an anxious mess. Especially if the doubt was about you.

You nodded cheerfully, while making your point.

„When did you realize?“

„Pretty early on“, you said and turned around again, observing the beautiful landscape in front of you.

„Hey, wait. Tell me when! Please, y/n“, he whined into your ear as his arms found your waist again.

You let your head fall back against his broad chest and smiled, remembering those days fondly.

„Do you remember when we first met? How we used to be?“

He nodded.

„We were inseparable back then, always hanging out with each other or calling or texting. It felt like we were obsessed with getting to know each other“, you mused happily.

„That didn’t change“, he said as he left soft kisses on your neck.

„One time when we were on the phone we had a conversation that sealed the deal for me. From then on I just knew that I would marry you some day.“

„What did I say, baby?“

„Oh god, I can actually quote it. How lame am I?“, you laughed embarrassed.

„The lamest. But I love you for that“, he chuckled against your skin. „Now tell me.“

„You said you were proud of me. It was super random and I didn’t understand why. I had to ask for clarification.“, you reminisced.

„Wait, I remember that call.“

You stayed silent for a second, replaying the situation in your mind.

„I am proud of you because you’re doing so great, y/n. Eating your veggies. Drinking your water. Taking your vitamins. Going for walks. Taking care of your mind. Staying positive. That deserves all my proud, y/n.“, you quoted him.

Namjoon stood quietly behind you, already knowing where this was going.

„I didn’t tell you at the time but I was facing a lot of shit. A lot of heavy stuff that made my life a living hell. And I was not doing fine. At all. Taking care of myself, even the simplest things, were a heavy burden to me. But I was trying my best and yet somehow you caught that.“

You turned around once more and looked into his loving eyes, stroking his cheek as you exclaimed your love for him.

„You didn’t need me to articulate my pain. You just knew. It’s like you saw right through me and decided to stay anyway. To give me my time to come to you instead of pressuring me into telling you.“

Namjoon‘s eyes were filled with tears as he listened closely, this was the first time you ever spoke about it that candidly.

„You sensed the war within me and provided me with peace. To me, Joonie, there’s no greater act of love. And I promise to return that love every single day. If you let me.“

Namjoon wiped away the tears hastily, but you stopped him.

You reached up to him and kissed him, tasting his salty tears on his sweet lips. In this moment you were sure that this wouldn’t be the last time for salty kisses but you didn’t mind. As long as you got him by your side, you were good.

Your Joon. Your home. Your only one.

[hyungieyoongi]

Mint Chocolate

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluffiest fluff + Namjoon cannot quite wrap his head around why you love mint chocolate so much

Word Count: 900+

A/N: Namjoon is top of mind post music video feature drop...the man is a wrecker if I have ever seen one ugh

The first time he thought must have heard you wrong.

“Mint cho? Did you just order mint chocolate ice cream?” Namjoon looked over at you, mouth slightly agape, eyes squinting in confusion.

“What?” you responded, licking your green ice cream. “It’s my favorite flavor.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Afraid not, Joonie,” you giggled, walking up to the cash register. The two of you had been dating for a few weeks; you offered to treat him to ice cream to celebrate the release of his new song. You reached into your purse to grab your wallet, but a large, tanned hand stopped you, handing the cashier a card before you could pay.

“Hey,” you said, swatting his arm, offended. “This was supposed to be my treat!”

Namjoon smiled at you around a spoonful of his ice cream, pleased with himself as he took his card back from the employee. She was eyeing the two of you with amusement as you bickered.

“Next time, babe,” Namjoon promised with a wink. You flushed—it was the first time he had called you by the term of endearment. He took your hand in his, leading you out of the ice cream shop, amused at your flustered state.

“Don’t let your ice cream melt, Y/N,” he said with a wink. “Even if it is the worst flavor.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t keep the smile off of your face.

---

He still couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Y/N, please, I am begging you, don’t do it,” Namjoon whined, grumpily hugging you from behind in the grocery store aisle as you reached for the pint of mint chocolate ice cream.

“Sweetie, we have been over this—I am not going to change my ice cream preferences just because we are dating,” you successfully got a hold of the ice cream despite his arms around you, spinning around to place it in the cart behind your boyfriend. He kissed your forehead, grumbling about how he doesn’t understand how you like to eat cold toothpaste, diligently pushing the cart down the aisle as you trailed after him.

You snuck a pint of pistachio ice cream out of the freezer, hurrying to catch up with him to drop it in the cart as he stopped to look at a display.

“There? Can you be happy now?” you asked, standing on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Yes, thank you,” he mumbled, placated.

---

At this point, he was used to your love of mint chocolate, even if he didn’t understand it.

You found a stash of your ice cream hidden away in Namjoon’s freezer, snuck behind the ice cream that he actually liked. It had been a long day at work; all you wanted to do was curl up on your boyfriend’s couch and watch a movie with your mint chocolate ice cream.

He found you like that later when he walked in the door of his apartment, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket burrito, spoon clattering against your bowl.

“Bad day?” he asked, leaning down to peck your lips, tasting the sugary sweet, minty taste that he had begun to associate with you ever since your first ice cream date together.

“You have no idea,” you muttered, lifting the spoon to your lips. Namjoon sank down into the couch cushion next to you, wrapping an arm snuggly around you and pulling you into his side.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Mmm, maybe later. Just cuddle me for now, please,” you said quietly, moving closer to his body heat.

He leaned his head on the top of yours, holding you tightly.

“You know, I still can’t believe you like mint chocolate so much. You’d think spending all of this time around me would make you change your ways,” Namjoon joked, trying to make you laugh.

“Oh please, you know you have to tolerate my love of mint chocolate in order to love me,” you scoffed. You felt Namjoon freeze beside you, his body stiffening at your words. You quickly ran back in your head the words you had spoken aloud, realizing quickly what you had said. You stopped breathing, hoping he would pretend he hadn’t heard if you didn’t move.

“Love? Who said anything about love?” Namjoon asked quietly after a beat of silence.

“Wh-what? Love? I didn’t say lo-“

“Um, I think you did,” Namjoon said, turning your shoulders slightly to face him. You didn’t meet his eyes, but he tilted your chin up so you had nowhere else to look but at his face, smiling hugely with amusement, a twinkle in his heads filled with adoration. “Did you ever stop to think that I tolerated your love of mint chocolate because I love you?”

“I mean…I guess that makes sense,” you mumbled. 

“Because I do, Y/N. I love you. Very much,” Namjoon said, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek comfortingly. You leaned into his touch, letting out the breath you had been holding.

“I love you, too.”

“Good, because if you think I am eating all of that ice cream I bought for you, think again.”

“I’m sure you could always get Hoseok to eat it, he likes mint cho,” you teased. Namjoon rolled his eyes at your antics.

“I swear, you’re insufferable.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you love me despite that, isn’t it?” Namjoon broke out into a toothy grin at your words, his eyes squinting at the edges as he let out a laugh.

“Can’t argue with you there.” He brought your face to his, meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.

You tasted like mint chocolate.

---

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[cheeseceli]

Namjoon Kisses

He kisses your forehead while you are asleep. It's light enough for you to not wake up, but so full of love that you could smile while dreaming. During those times he would always say how he loves you and how he is lucky to have you in his life. He doesn't think he's ready to tell you that just yet, at least not when you are awake, but he confesses to you every night. He hopes that the way you hug him closer means that you love him too.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[bangtaninborderland]

KNJ- Not so dinner date.

It’s late when you arrive home, the lights are off and the regular sounds of your boyfriend are null. You sigh as you shake off your jacket, sliding off your shoes only to replace them with house slippers.

The clock above the refrigerator is the only light in the kitchen and as dim as it is you don’t flick on a light, instead you slouch at the table snacking on the random fruits Namjoon had piled into a bowl.

The truth is you loved your boyfriend with your entire heart, there wasn’t ever a time when you felt as if you wanted to be away from him. Of course, his job as an idol was one that put distance between you, your own job not accommodating time for you to travel as often as he did but you still made it work.

“Baby?”

You almost jump out of your skin as you whip your head around to see him sulking towards you, his shoulders hunched over.

“I thought you were sleeping joonie, did I wake you?” You stood up, closing the space between you to wrap your arms around his middle.

You breathed in his smell, finding comfort in it. He had been addicted to this new rain forest scented fabric conditioner that Jungkook had introduced him to, he had explained to you for the hours BTS had to wait during music shows just how the different scents were drawn from different plants and trees and although you didn’t completely understand it you did your best to keep up.

“You didn’t wake me, I waited up. Do you want to order some food or did you eat?”

You shake your head reluctantly. “Joon it’s 11 pm, you have work tomorrow.”

“However could I work if I starved to death?”he groaned frantically, feigning a laugh.

You quirked an eyebrow. “You haven’t eaten?”

“I did. Sort of.”

“Ramen does not count.”

“I did not.”

“How about we order fried chicken?” You smile.

Your first date had been at a park with awful fried chicken that you had gotten from a definitely dodgy van. You had both gotten stomach aches and ended up being treated at the hospital for food poisoning, through your short but required hospital stay you were put next to each other and despite the way you were both doubling over in cramps every few minutes you made the most of the time with one another, learning as much as you could.

He leads you over to the couch, pulling you into his arms. “You really want fried chicken?”

“It’s fast, just chose a good place.” You shrug earning a playful pinch from him.

A lot of your firsts happened over the simple meal, your first fight had occurred over it. You had only been dating a few weeks and Namjoon had gotten extremely busy planning a comeback with his members, it had left you barely any time with the man responding once a day if you were lucky. He had hauled himself up into his studio for almost a week straight refusing to do anything other than work on music. You were worried when Taehyung, whom you had only met twice prior, had called to ask for backup. You had stormed into the hybe building holding a box of fried chicken from his favourite place, you punched the code into his studio earning a harsh reprimanding from him as you demanded he saved his work and step away from the computer. He had argued how you couldn’t understand his stress and how it wasn’t going to work out between you, he had told you to leave and that you were just like everyone else; misjudging him. You remember the way his jaw fell open as you threw a pillow straight at him mid-rant. Soon enough he sat beside you on his little couch and picked at his chicken before devouring it in minutes. You had forced him to take you home where you had a three-hour-long conversation that ended up in him falling asleep in your lap.

“I ordered, it will be here in a little.” He threw his phone against the table.

You run your hands through his newly dyed hair, you always loved how black hair looked on him. “How was work today baby?”

“We filmed a run episode and I nearly won.” He smiled pridefully. “When will you come next?”

“I have been given tomorrow and Friday off if you want me to come with you?” It wasn’t a complete lie, you had requested the days off in order to make time for him.

He pushes you back a little, allowing a clearer look at your face. “Really? That soon?”

You smile at him nodding. “I guess I got lucky.”

“I don’t have work tomorrow, though.”

“Then stay home with me?” You smile, placing a kiss to his lips.

He says nothing but affirms by kissing you back before pressing a few more to your forehead.

You sat talking about your days until the food came 25 minutes later. As always you had requested to have it left at the door, it was always safer that way. After waiting for the driver to place the food outside and to leave the building Namjoon snuck outside to grab it.

You help set it out on the table as he put on a random show. You ate In silence watching the tv until a thought crossed your mind that you had to resolve.

“Joon can I ask you something?”

He looks at you worried, pausing the TV before turning to you. “Anything.”

“Do you ever wish we were different people? Maybe just farmers or something..” you half-joked, pushing your almost-finished meal aside.

“If you want a farmer you should try Jin Hyung or Taehyung.”

You can’t help but laugh as he flashes you a dimpled smile. “No I haven’t, amidst all the stress and lack of time we have with one another I could ever imagine being with someone different.”

“Why?” You watch his face twist in thought.

He hums for a moment before responding. “I love you. I liked you and then I loved you and in that time I learned that I’d rather have one day with you than a hundred days with anyone else.”

You let the weight of his words settle before responding. “You know joonie we have a lot of firsts over fried chicken.”

“What’s the first this time?” He laughs pushing his own food away before leaning back against the couch.

You started. “I could come home to an empty house for the entirety of your tour but I wouldn’t have it any other way because my heart is with you always and I know for every day you go we will have a week to make up for it. I was scared at first, scared we wouldn’t work, that you’d get too busy and forget about me but it’s small moments like these that give me the most clarification on my wants for the future.”

“And what are those wants?” He holds your hand in between his, something he does to show he is paying the utmost attention to you.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to eat fried chicken with you at midnight even though we have to be awake at 6 am, I want to share the excitement of what trees have their DNA stolen to make up fabric softeners you like, I want to be the one to give you comfort and happiness along with my unbridled support.”

“I want to give you the world.” He says the words softly but you know there’s a weight that they bare. “And I will but for now can I have your last wing?”

You scoff shoving the man off the couch onto the floor. “Unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable enough that I can have your last wing?” He eyes your chicken box and you raise a threatening finger.

“Don’t you dare.”

Before you could say anything he had already grabbed the box and ran halfway through the house, you cursed his long legs for aiding his getaway.

“Touch my chicken and your Pokémon cards get it.” You threaten.

You can’t help but laugh at his footsteps slap against the tiled flooring. “LEAVE MY CARDS ALONE”

“Give me my chicken wing.” You hold your hand out, as he does the same. You hand over his extra large Pokémon folder as he does your chicken box.

“Hey?” He calls as you turn to head back to the couch, box in hand.

He grins at you, before holding his arms out, one hand bearing his folder and the other your chicken wing.

“KIM NAMJOON!” You throw yourself over the couch as he scurries off.

About twenty minutes of play fighting and chasing later you both collapse on the bed in a laughing bundle. “I can’t wait to tell Yoongi Hyung we wrestled over a chicken wing.” Namjoon giggled.

“He would be horrified.” Your eyes widened.

“He would, he would probably lecture us on why we should never eat fried chicken again.”

A bout of silence befalls you before a great idea comes to mind. “Let’s call him and tell him we broke up over fried chicken.”

“You have such a sexy brain. He will go insane.” He agreed rushing to grab his phone.

You smiled at the ceiling, memorising the events of your not-so-dinner date. This is exactly why you made it work, because even at midnight you could run around and laugh with him, you could have thorough discussions and most importantly you would both indulge e in listening and sometimes enacting your wildest thoughts. Even if it did mean annoying a poor Min yoongi over Fried chicken on a Wednesday night.

[jinkookspencil]

like couples do | knj

you run out of period products at dawn, and there's only one person who's up....

description/tags: namjoon drabble / fwb to lovers / fluff / but mentions the fact that namjoon and reader had unprotected sex (don't do this) and reader is relieved to get her period afterwards / so obviously mentions of period and blood / maybe a bit angsty? / been busy and been working on a request! but it's been a while since i wrote namjoon and, gosh, i love writing for him even though whatever comes to me for him is usually the most random bursts and ideas, like this one i thought of last night / let me know what you think <3

wc: ~1.6k words

+

Your gasp pulls you from heaven to hell.

Extracted from your dream, you’re out of the covers in a flash, dazed as you try to meet your reality. The room was sweltering despite autumn settling in and the fan whizzing away in your room as it always did. The sound you’d grown so accustomed to only made it harder to think, but you didn’t have to. The wet pools at your back and around your body suddenly made themselves known, with your black pajama top sticking to your sweaty skin. With a quick change into a tank top and a sip of cold water, you were ready to escape into a dreamland, far from the hellhole that had been your bedroom...

Only to be met with a small pool of a different kind when you pull away the blanket.

Fuck.

Quickly feeling between your thighs confirmed it - you bled through your shorts.

Well, at least it’s here, you think, your heart settling after days worrying about the sudden delay in your cycle. After all, Namjoon hadn’t used any protection… 

It was hard to put away the mental image of him once you were in the bathroom, remembering that one time he had you propped up on the cabinet, but looking through it now, the panic returns. You were all out of pads and tampons.

This is why people have roommates. Or stupidly organized Virgo boyfriends, you think, cursing yourself while rummaging through every drawer, cupboard, and overnight bag without finding a single tampon for the evening. 

The minutes spent on your phone were quick to squash any more of your hopes - the delivery service app had been shut down for the night after some seemingly catastrophic bug on their end, and your female friends who lived nearby hadn't answered your texts and calls, as expected at this time of day.

Reading the time on your phone, you knew one person who would definitely be up. The person who always showed up. The man worked ridiculous hours, following his ‘late-night creativity’… unless the universe really wanted to torture you and, for the very first time, he’d be asleep as well.

You consider running to the convenience store, double layering your bottoms with black fabrics, and taking a scooter... only for a stinging cramp to shock you at your lower back.

He had to answer.

+

to: joon 🌒[3:58am] - hi are you up?

to: joon🌒 [3:58am] - text asap please it’s urgent

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - yes i’m up. are you okay y/n?

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - i’m finally done with work for the night.

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - are you okay? i’ll call as soon as i’m out of the building.

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - don’t call i’m embarrassed to say this to you out loud plus i'm in pain

to: joon 🌒 [4:02am] - can you get me some pads and tampons? i got my period (aka the pain) and i’m all out so….

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - i need em and i can’t get em

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - y/n of course. phew i thought this was going in literally the complete opposite way considering…

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - anyways, aren’t we past embarrassment? never feel that when it comes to me please.

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - safe space just for us, remember? 

to: joon🌒 [4:04am] - yes :) thanks joon 

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - :) getting on my bike now. i’ll be there in 10.

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - the sky’s starting to change colors. look outside, pretty :) (1 image attached)

+

The knock, though expected, jolts you enough for your new bedsheet to spring away from your grasp once again. Frustrated, a groan escapes you as you walk to your front door, tightening the robe that covered your body and stained shorts.

“Sorry I’m late,” Namjoon giggles at the door, seeing your furrowed expression. “Oh, you’re most definitely on your period, huh?”

“Get in here and shut up,” you groan once more, letting him in. All too familiar with your place, he unpacks one of the bags in his hand, carefully displaying an array of period products on the nearest table. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t send a photo and ask me to choose one,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes.

“I… I grabbed everything in the aisle without thinking. Shit, I should’ve sent a photo, right? Are these not good enough? Are they the wrong size? Will they fit your....? I can go to another convenience store,” he murmurs, head tilted down as he surveys the products before you.

“No, Namjoon, honey, the photo is just a thing boyfriends tend to do when they’re asked to get period products. You asked the same size and fit question, though,” you laugh before quickly realizing you compared his actions to that of a boyfriend. Something he most definitely was not.

“I lived in a dorm full of boys, how was I supposed to know?” he says, scratching his head.

“These are perfect, and I’m stocked for at least the next three months. Thank you, Joonie,” you say, squeezing his arm.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies quietly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead. It only hits you both when your hand is rubbing at his back in his embrace, and it takes even longer to break away than it did to realize the situation. 

Something shifts in Namjoon’s gaze when he sees you emerge from the bathroom in new pyjama shorts. “Cute PJ’s. I’m not used to seeing them on you for more than five seconds.”

“Enjoy the show, then,” you quip, plopping down next to him on the couch and extending your legs over his lap. You hadn’t really meant it as a command, but can’t help but smile catching the fact that Namjoon had obeyed. His fingers draw mindless circles at your ankles as his gaze travels upwards. Minutes are spent in silence, eyeing your thighs with intent before his eyes rest on your exposed clavicle. His circles stop, gripping your ankle and noting the undeniable rise and fall of your breathing and breasts, swollen and tender against your thin cotton tank top.

“Oh,” he finally says with a cough, breaking the silence and raising his brows. “I almost forgot. I thought you might need these.”

Leaning forward, Namjoon dumps the entire contents of the second plastic bag onto your hard coffee table. Small, colorful circles bounce off of it and onto the floor, long bars land with a thud, and instantly recognizable plastic packages are cushioned by its contents.

“Oh, Joon. I do. I do fucking need this,” you let out, almost as a moan. “You already know what I want.”

Smiling, he tears open a plastic packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored bread and another for himself. The time spent biting and savoring the pillowy snack was heavenly in the comfortable silence -save for the birds that begin to chirp from somewhere outside your window.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the sticker,” you say, handing Namjoon the tiny square envelope in your now-empty plastic packaging. He’s quick to grab it from your hands, giddy to see whatever Pokemon character was inside.

"Take mine, too," he says, handing you his square, with an illustration of a pink, deer-like creature - not at all like the Pokemon he usually mentioned.

"Oh, she’s pretty!”

"Exactly..." he says. "Deerling, that's her name. She's a new favorite of mine, actually. Her colors change based on the different seasons in the year... and when she evolves, her deer form's antlers are basically how branches are decorated in nature: budding flowers and leaves for spring, greenery for summer, you get the picture. She's the only one that truly encapsulates the beauty of our world..."

"All that for a Pokemon? I'm jealous," you tease, but he doesn't laugh, quietly opening the envelope you'd handed to him.

“Yes!” he cheers. “I don’t have this one yet - Moltres. Ah, you really are my good luck charm, huh?"

"Am I? I guess you should keep me around, then, huh?" you say, leaning back on the couch and poking his shoulder.

"That's the plan," Namjoon says, his eyes still thoughtfully fixated on the sticker he fiddled with, but only for a moment. “Uhm… I… we… should probably get some sleep, huh? I should probably…go. Uhm, should I?”

“Do you want to go?” you ask, feeling a tightening in your chest at the thought. Just like all those nights in bed, it was too comfortable to remember that this wasn't your entire reality but stolen, secret time. Always, one found themselves reminding the other to snap back to reality. It was beautifully torturous, just as you two had liked it for so long… until it began to sink in that the beauty could stand on its own…. if only one of you had the courage. 

“….No. No I don’t really want to go, Y/N. But if you want me to….” 

“I don’t want you to,” you interrupt, nudging his fingertip with yours right over your knees until your hands are intertwined. “I mean someone has to help me fit that stupid sheet onto the bed... and you're quite familiar with my sheets."

“I am,” he smiles, nodding to himself and squeezing your hand with his.

“Then we can get in… and just go to sleep… or cuddle,” you wonder, feeling Namjoon's soft hand under yours.

“Like couples do?” Namjoon asks, finally meeting your gaze for the first time that night.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m thinking like couples do,” you whisper, your breath hitching on the words that spoke your once unthinkable, far-fetched desire while looking at it right in the eyes. 

“Me too,” he smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss it and rest it at his dimples. “Like couples it is then.”

[jjkeverlast]

keep in step | knj (m)

-> pairing professor!namjoon x professor!f.reader

-> genre/au's smut, enemies to lovers, dinner party au!

-> summary after namjoon has got you worked up for nothing, you find a way to reclaim your power, and what better way than to do it at the annual dinner party?

-> word count 2.6k

-> warnings sexual tension | reader teases joon with cake lol | taehyung and jungkook are mentioned | namjoon's thighs (trust me it's a warning) | namjoon is wearing the outfit | oral (m. receiving)

-> author's note i cannot believe that a request from my milestone celebration AND joon feeding us so much content today had me writing pt2 so quickly... but here we aaaare :)))) i highly suggest reading the first part, which you can find here ! to my lovely readers and moots who have been waiting for a second part, i hope this meets your expectations <3 also big thanks for the banner made by my lovely mari ( @archivedkookie ) i love you babe, it's absolutely beautiful omg.

i should note that play the game was a request by my darling jess @btsgotjams27 for my milestone last year and therefore there will not be a taglist to this! thank you :)

Three months. Three painful months of doing absolutely nothing after your little mishap with Namjoon. It was torture, to be quite honest. Somehow you weren’t certain about him, about his intentions with you and certainly not how to revenge yourself in the perfect way. 

Namjoon proved towards you that his little scheme in the copy room was part of some fucked up game. A game to prove you don’t hate him. Currently, it’s one to zero, but you’re going to prove to not only him but yourself as well, that he isn’t here for the game, but you. 

Another reason for you to have yet to revenge yourself was because Namjoon was barely in the same capacity as you. The universe loves to suddenly turn your world upside down and make sure that you and Namjoon now have separate auditoriums for your classes. Therefore, you haven’t exactly been annoyed with him as you were before when he overtook your classes time. 

It wasn’t until the annual teacher’s dinner party that Namjoon was at your expense. 

The dinner party was a tradition, paid by the university to give thanks for the teacher’s hard work throughout the year. The venue that was picked out was spacious, various tables decorating it and big chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. 

As soon as you stepped in, Namjoon was the first to catch your eye. He was wearing an all black outfit, his hair dark in a nice cut. It’s the first time you’re seeing him without his glasses and the sight is refreshing. There’s something about how his eyes are more captive from a mile away for you, and how exposed his defined face is. 

Namjoon’s eyes move towards you, gliding down to your feet in a slow movement. He smirks, his dimple prominent by the action and you’re trying to hold your breath. He’s not going to win tonight. You’ll make sure of it. 

A few presentations are presented by various teachers and counselors. All of them honoring the hard work. You’re sitting next to Kim Taehyung, an art history professor who’s been nothing but kind to you. His boxy smile and lame jokes keep you in a good mood and keeps you away from thinking about a certain someone. 

You don’t know what it is about Namjoon. Ever since he went down on you in the copy room, giving you a mindblowing orgasm he has managed to engrave himself in your head and infiltrate your love life. Yes, you had clearly tried to find a solution, a partner who actually wants you but whenever you managed to get a date, Namjoon’s dimple filled smile and his tongue skills would cloud your mind and leave you in irritation. 

Every part of you wants to look and glance at Namjoon. He’s sitting two tables away from you, his laugh flowing through the venue directly to you and you grab tightly onto your bag to restrain yourself. 

Just stick to the plan. 

‘’Wow, can’t believe we’re already halfway through the year.’’ Taehyung comments, earning your attention. 

‘’Yeah, time really does fly.’’ He nods along, swirling his thumb against his wine glass as if he’s contemplating taking another sip. He mutters under his breath, grabbing onto the glass and taking a light sip. The cringing expression on his face connects to his pondering face from before. Taehyung isn’t a wine person, but in most cases alcohol is still in the end, alcohol. 

The first course gets served and everyone on the table is pleased. Minor conversations are exchanged, mostly university related and you join in once in a while. Somehow your mind continues to play Namjoon’s words before he took the courage and kissed you. 

‘’You hate me, yet you stare at me as if you want me.’’ 

Brain, kindly shut the fuck up. You don’t notice yourself poking more aggressively at the food in front of you but it’s the only way for you to scold yourself. 

Namjoon doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s— 

You almost drop your fork, glancing upwards to find Namjoon watching you with delicate eyes. His fingers trail beneath his chin, nodding along to the person babbling away next to him. But his gaze, his gaze remains on you. You squirm in your seat, clearing your throat as you avert your attention elsewhere. 

Fuck, that’s another point for him. 

You’d love to blame yourself for this, but in reality it’s his fault. His fault for showing up with an outfit showcasing every part of his body that is to drool for. You’re thankful that you aren’t sitting with him, or else you’d constantly throw glances downwards to his prominent thick thighs. You may or may have not once dreamt about riding them. But that’s for him to wonder and for you to know. 

The desert rolls around, a creamy cake and Taehyung’s eyes light up at the delicacy being placed in front of him. Maybe you’ve had enough, or maybe you’d love to finally revenge yourself seeing Namjoon is already giving you the perfect attention for it.��

Slowly, you take a bite, locking eyes with Namjoon from across the room. The cream manages to fill out the corners of your lips. Instead of taking a napkin, you drag your thumb over the corners before licking the excess. To your success, it works. Namjoon’s lips slightly part by your action, his adam’s apple bobbing proving he’s lost his breath due to it. 

Taehyung accidentally drops a piece of cake on his pants, groaning loudly which snaps you back from your lustful trance with Namjoon. You help Taehyung, handing him your unused napkin and he thanks you with a sincere smile. 

With hope, you return your gaze to Namjoon, but he’s gone. You look around, noticing how multiple have left the table and are now mingling amongst each other in playful chatter. This is your chance. 

‘’Hey, I’ll be right back. I just need to use the restroom.’’ You excuse yourself to Taehyung and he thankfully doesn’t seem to mind, leaving the table himself to talk with Jeon Jungkook, a biology professor. 

You set yourself on a mission to find Namjoon, walking away from the crowd, stumbling past some empty rooms that seem to be reserved for future meetings. When you reach the exit, someone pulls at your arm, pushing you inside a cramped closet. 

The minute you’re about to scream, you notice it’s Namjoon and your brows frown. Even though you were looking for him, you’re annoyed with every part of him and how he manages to affect you without having to lay a single finger on you. 

‘’Missed me?’’ He raises a brow in tact with the question. 

You roll your eyes at his comment, yet your body shivers. 

‘’I still hate you. Nothing has changed.’’ You step closer, the material of his jacket brushing against your exposed skin. 

Slowly, a smile grows on Namjoon’s face and a laugh manages to slip out. 

‘’Nothing has changed. Right, and you definitely haven’t been thinking about my tongue.’’ The words roll off perfectly, going straight to your core. 

‘’Not exactly.’’ 

With confidence, you bring your hands on him, trailing on his white shirt beneath the black jacket. Namjoon hisses by the sudden action, mouth agape as he watches you carefully explore his upper body. 

‘’Oh yeah? Then tell me.’’ You look up, moving your face closer to his until his nose brushes against yours. 

‘’Been thinking about sucking you off.’’ 

Namjoon closes his eyes before muttering, ‘’Fuck.’’ 

He moves closer, his lips hovering above yours but instead of completing his action you drop down to your knees. You give yourself support by holding firmly onto Namjoon’s thighs. They tense once in a while under your palm and it makes it hard for you not to imagine what it’d be like riding them. How the prominent lines of his muscles would flex under you, encouraging to continue as you hold tightly onto him. 

Maybe, if you still badly want him after this, you’ll take that fantasy into consideration. 

For now, you want nothing more than to return the gesture you would’ve given Namjoon since he left you half naked in the printer room. 

The material of his pants cling nicely to his thighs, showcasing a bit of what’s underneath and excitement bubbles at the pit of your stomach. Namjoon has completely lost his use of words, only breathing heavily as he observes your every move. 

Your palms start to move slowly over the material, feeling the soft sensation it carries. You squeeze down once or twice, dragging closer to his bulge that has started to strain beneath the slacks. You’re tempted to open the single button that keeps his pants up, but this is Namjoon. The Kim Namjoon who’s been on your nerves for the longest time. The Kim Namjoon who you thought you hated, but now? You aren’t exactly certain what you feel towards him. 

‘’I know what you’re doing.’’ Namjoon says. 

‘’And what am I doing?’’ You ask but don’t stop the motions of your hands. 

‘’You’re being slow on purpose, to torture me for all those months.’’ Wow. Kim Namjoon may carry a brain after all. 

It was your plan, to show him how painful slow can be and to poke him for being a slow professor in general. He’s taken you by surprise by cracking the code so quickly. 

You hum in approval. ‘’You got me.’’ Before you continue, Namjoon’s hooded eyes catch your attention. 

‘’I’m gonna show you how slow I can be.’’ It’s the last thing Namjoon hears from you, before you’ll tease him till he’ll plead for you to give in. 

Your mouth hovers above his bulge, lips trailing on the closed off zipper. The movements of your hands never stop admiring his firm thighs, how big they are under your burning skin. 

‘’You’re a fucking menace.’’ Namjoon manages to choke out, mind blurred from your breath so close yet so far from where he wants you. 

Ignoring his comment to your pace, you take a step further, removing his pants and dragging them down to his feet. His naked golden skin catches you off guard. The light partakes in making it look extraordinary, showing you the minor details of his definite muscles. 

‘’Shit.’’ You mutter under your breath and even though you aren’t looking at Namjoon, you can paint out the cocky smile he’s carrying. 

Straightening your back, you move closer, toying with the waistband that clings nicely on his hips. You haven’t even removed his boxers yet, but the outline of his cock tells you exactly what you’ve been wondering. Kim Namjoon is big. 

It’s a challenge you’re willing to take — in your mouth to be exact. 

Lifting the white shirt, you trail a few wet kisses on his abdomen and v-line. Namjoon grunts in response, grabbing onto your cheek out of instinct. The touch of his hand feels warm, careful and delicate and you urge yourself to not lean into his touch. 

Curiosity gets the worse out of you and with no warning, you pull down the briefs abruptly. Namjoon’s breath gets caught in his throat, a clogged moan slipping past his lips. You’re trying not to drool once his cock is fully exposed in front of you. Anger manages to seep through as well, remembering him keeping it a secret from you when you both got a taste of one another for the first time. 

He’s painfully hard, pre-cum leaking off his tip and you mentally praise yourself. You’ve managed to work him up a lot quicker than you had imagined. He’s never truly shown how much he wants you, even though his tongue has been on you. Namjoon never once admitted how much he wants you. 

Your lips trail on his thighs, inching closer to his cock that’s begging for attention but you aren’t so easy. The bridge of your nose brushes against the base of his cock and Namjoon’s grip on your cheek tightens. 

‘’You’re fucking killing me.’’ He’s laughing softly, although it’s painted with irritation. 

A small peck is received by your end. ‘’Tell me how badly you want me, and maybe I’ll give in.’’ 

Namjoon knows you’re playing the game, the game he started back then when he wanted you to admit how badly you wanted him before he dropped down to his knees, trailing his tongue on every part of you. You bat your eyes, waiting for him to give in and Namjoon clenches his jaw — contemplation overtaking his expression. 

With a deep breath, Namjoon closes his eyes. ‘’Please. Need your mouth so fucking badly.’’ 

One to one, to you. Let’s make that two. 

You comply, letting your tongue trail freely from the base to the tip, coating him in your saliva. The sounds from Namjoon are unexplainable, his moans sending you through the roof. 

The tip settles heavy on the end of your tongue, and you look up, catching a sight of Namjoon straining his neck, veins decorating it. 

Swirling your tongue on his tip, you manage to taste him. You open wider, inviting more of him inside your warm mouth, lips closing around his cock. With the help of your hand, you stroke what your mouth can’t cover and you start off at a slow pace. 

‘’Fuck—’’ Namjoon curses under his breath. His hand never leaves your cheek, secretly loving how he’s able to feel his cock inside your mouth. 

The slow pace is still a threat to him, but your soft lips on the outline of cock eases down the hatred he has for your plan. 

Internally you hope no one catches the both of you. Inside a closet, at an annual dinner party doing anything but friendly chatter which the other professors are too busy maintaining. It’s kind of thrilling somehow, your secret sneaking around with Namjoon — a professor you were bound to hate — yet here you are stuffing your mouth with his cock. 

The thrill starts building up when muttered chatter can be heard from where you are, and with that you completely blow off your plan, quickening the pace out of the blue. 

Namjoon knows you’re both at risk and he’d wish he would be able to enjoy this without having an uncomfortable thought of being caught. He bites his bottom lip, refraining himself from being too loud and giving you both away. 

Quickening your pace makes it easier for Namjoon to reach his limit. His thighs tense, along with his hand on your cheek and you’re prepared for him to come in your mouth. The last thing you want is for people to find cum stains in the closet while picking out their jacket to go home. 

‘’Shit baby— Yes. Fuck!’’ One choked out moan and Namjoon’s orgasm seeps through, the cum spilling itself in the base of your throat. The nickname catches you off guard, but you’re too busy making sure you don’t leave a mess behind. Thankfully, you succeed and quickly pull yourself up to your feet. 

‘’Holy shit.’’ Namjoon blurts out, panting with a smile. 

‘’We need to leave, before anyone catches us.’’ You inform, grabbing his wrist towards the exit while he fumbles with getting his pants back on. 

The air is a bit cooler once you’ve stepped out, Namjoon behind your trail. The dinner party is still going on, music starting to play over speakers and the teachers forming an awkward dance circle. 

‘’Hey, do you wanna get out of here?’’ The question throws you off guard. 

‘’What?’’ 

‘’Yeah, I mean my place isn’t far from here and I’d love to finally fuck you.’’ 

You chuckle, crossing your arms. ‘’You’re gonna have to earn that.’’ 

Before Namjoon responds, you turn your back, returning to Kim Taehyung and the rest of the crowd. 

Two to one, Kim Namjoon. 

© jjkeverlast 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost any of my works]