The baby shower had been in full swing for a while now. Playing game after game: guess the size of the baby, make the best clay baby, pin the bonnet on the baby. Absolute classics, and unfortunately absolute boredom. The women handling entertainment had lost your attention a while back. Instead you were focused on the group of men in the corner, most looking as bored as you, save two. Number one being the father-to-be, beaming with pride every time his wife brushed passed him, his fingers caressing her bump at every chance. The picture of wedded bliss. Number two was your doting fiancé. He was awestruck. Picking up and cooing at tiny booties, getting way too invested in the ins and outs of pregnancy, glancing at you with a warm smile. You knew Joon wanted a baby, and soon. You’d talked about it a lot, managing to get him to settle for a year after your wedding. It’s not that you didn’t want kids, you just wanted to spend time just the two of you for a little longer.
By the time party is wrapping up, there’s no mistaking the broody, lust filled expression on Namjoon’s face as he hurries you out of the venue.
“I need to get you home… right now!” his voice is low in your ear, making you shiver. The drive home seems to last forever. His hand stroking along your bare leg, pushing your dress to uncover more and more of you as you drive. You swat at his advances, trying to focus but he is difficult to stop when he gets like this. His fingers creep closer, playing with the lace on the edge of your panties. A little whimper betrays you, and he knows he has you. He cups your core and plays with you through the fabric. By the time you pull into your drive he has made you a panting mess. You turn off the engine and reach for the door only to find Namjoon had already done so, after sprinting round. He lifts you out of the car bridal style and rushes into the house, only pausing to kick off his shoes before throwing you onto the bed.
“I’m gonna stuff you so full of my cum the birth control you’re on will be useless.” His lips find yours briefly before trailing down your neck, his fingers resume their earlier task of playing with you through your underwear. You thrust your hips begging his hand for more friction. He obliges, slipping the flimsy fabric to the side and dipping his middle finger through your slick. He moans as he feels how wet you are. Not wanting to wait any longer he pulls your dress around your hips and peels your panties down your legs. His head comes to rest between your legs, his beautiful eyes staring up at you from such a risqué position never fails to turn you on, a wave of arousal washes over you.
“You’re so gorgeous baby…” his warm breath tickles your thighs “Think how pretty you’d be glowing, my baby growing inside of you.” His large palm covers your tummy as he inches a little closer to your pussy.
“As true as that may be, I wouldn’t be able to see those amazing eyes that I love so much if I had a stomach the size of a watermelon” Joon takes this moment to make his move, removing the smug look from your face. His sucks so violently at your clit your eyes are forced closed.
“Doesn’t look like you can see them anyway” his voice sends vibrations through your nerves. You peel one eye open and meet his mischievous gaze. He winks before going back to work. Two fingers stretch you out, scissoring inside you, bending to reach that sweet soft spot, all the while sucking harshly at your clit. Your high hits like a wave. Eyes squeezed shut as you squirm on his mouth. He kisses up your pubic mound, leading up until he reaches your belly button, making a point to pay attention to where his baby could be.
“You know I’m not pregnant right?” you joke.
“Not for lack of me trying” he winks at you again before shedding himself of his pants. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock springing free. You make grabby hands for it, eager to take care of him the way he did for you. “Not today Y/N, I need you too much” he pins your hands above your head with one of his, the other supporting his weight, and he pushes into your waiting cunt. He dips his head, biting and sucking at your neck, creating little purple marks wherever he goes. His thrusts are hard and well-aimed, each one hitting at your cervix, leaving you feeling impossibly full. He releases your hands so you can play with yourself. His newly free hand lifts your leg to give him better access to you. Moans tumble freely from his mouth adding to your pleasure. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his mouth up to yours in a passionate embrace. Your lips trail down his chin until you reach the spot that makes him come undone every time.
His hips falter as you nip at the sensitive skin before going harder with a new-found fervour. It’s not long until you feel the familiar ache between your legs, this climax hits you softer, a comfortable burst. A small whimper that escapes you as Namjoon cums, thick ribbons shooting deep inside your unfertile womb. He slides himself out of you and pulls you close, his hand immediately drifting in between your legs, pushing his seed back inside of you.
“I can’t wait to get you pregnant for real” he mumbles into your neck.
⤷Genre:romance; fluff; boyfriend!namjoon x girlfriend!reader.
⤷Warnings:themes of insecurity.
Namjoon’s hands were your haven.
And you were simply entranced by them, from the meticulous sculpt of his slim fingers that rivaled the finest art pieces to how they entangled with your own so perfectly.
You loved nothing more than to simply admire them from afar, but once your eyes delved into the perfectly sculpted crevices and nooks of his appendages, little else mattered.
And though they often brought graceless destruction to so much around him, there was no place you felt was safer than when your hands intertwined with his. And when his thumb tenderly rubbed soothing shapes into your palm, there was nothing that could touch you.
So you loved to merely touch them at all times, and every opportunity to hold them within your own was never overlooked; much to your shy boyfriend’s dismay.
Even now, as your own hands delicately played with his lithe fingers, not even the glittering Cosmos could capture your attention.
The image of his deft fingers curling around his fountain pen as he wrote whatever lyrics he conjured was almost far too tempting to merely forget, which resulted in your thievery of his limbs.
It was only once the twinkle of your eyes faded from your lover’s view did he care for your play as you placed your palm against his, seemingly comparing the two.
“What’s wrong, little peach?” His voice spilled from his lips like a soothing tea, waiting to warm and comfort you after a long day.
Your brows furrowed as your fingers hesitantly slipped from his own and a soft sigh pushed past your lips. “Nothing.”
A frown fell upon his dewy lips whilst his broad hands pulled away from your grasp just to wrap around your own that hid from him within your sleeves.
“I know when somethings bothering you, peach. Don’t lie to me.”
Though his demands were delicate to your ears, you winced at his soft whispers, you hated it when his voice gently delved into the soft tone that made you want to open your whole heart to him, and never twist the truth in the slightest.
Namjoon was much like a truth serum, the softest moments with him could easily pour the truth from your lips, without much of an effort from your boyfriend.
“It’s just so stupid, but I’ve been thinking about our hands.” You awkwardly confessed only for a wordless nod and a gentle smile from your boyfriend, that urged you to tell him all that troubled you.
“And how beautiful yours are- just like the rest of you,” you gestured to his strong body, before a quiescent chuckle bubbled from him just to flutter your heart before he beckoned you into his lap, “and mine just don’t feel worthy.”
His strong arms tangled around your waist whilst his nose tenderly traced your cheek, and his fingers you adored so much filled the empty spaces between your own.
“Nothing from you will ever be stupid to me.” He assured you, tapping the tip of your nose with his fingers before he brought your hands between your chests.
“And you should know these are so beautiful.”
He praised ever so softly, as if a breath would shatter the hands his fingertips grazed, before he carefully pressed his lips to your smallest finger and dipped his lips to next, he kissed every imperfection and blemish ten times before repeating his soft kisses ten times more.
Once he drew his velvety lips from the back from your hands, the warmth he placed within your belly burned along with your curiosity.
“Why?”
His head fell back just enough to look into your eyes as his hands rested upon the small of your back and hips, as goosebumps followed the path of his fingers along your spine.
“Because each one of them are yours.” He stated, as if it were an answer so clear, written within classic literature as a fact of life, and you were baffled at just how perfect he was to you.
Your lips parted in the stunned silence he hushed you with, unable to comprehend an answer to his beautiful comforts; but you hadn’t need to say anything at all for him interlace his hands with yours, to emphasize just how immaculately they joined together.
“If they weren’t, they could never fit so perfectly with mine.” He whispered, his eyes never leaving your tangled fingers until his twinkling eyes looked into yours.
“Everything about you is perfect for me, little peach.”
Perhaps it was the sincerity of his eyes locked upon yours, or how his hand that wasn’t wrapped so tightly within your own gently tucked your hair behind your ear, but you were far too wrought with his words to form your own.
So you did all you knew to do, you wordlessly mashed your lips into his own that had simply been pleading with you to kiss them at last.
The hold he had upon your hand tightened as his other hand cupped your cheek with a gentleness you could only expect from Namjoon, as he sweetly returned your shy kisses.
He gave you all of his understanding and love until your fears were irrelevant, all the while your hand remained tightly enclosed within his.
*warnings* : hybrid sex, rough sex, orgasm control, derogatory language during sex, possessive!Namjoon, dom!Namjoon, use of a collar, lovebites/marking, breathplay, hair pulling, mentions of knotting, this is basically porn
You stare with wide eyes and a slackened jaw at your computer screen.
A heady thrill of excitement eases its way through your body, starting from your toes snaking up, up, until you feel a simmering heat everywhere. You are holding your breath in, consumed by a steady, droning staccato- your heartbeat, drumming a fast and desperate rhythm in your veins. You are acutely aware of the shift of your limbs, the tightening of your muscles, the quickening of your breath, the anticipation starting to clamour hot and thick between your legs.
And all of this from an email.
Your bedroom is calm, the lamp you keep on your bedside table casting slopes of light against your alabaster walls. The stillness of the evening dulls everything around you. The only decipherable noise is the quiet hum of your computer, and the hitch as you release your breath, try and relax your clenched thighs.
Once you feel a touch more composed, your lift your eyes and scan through the email again.
Your composure unravels, your breath comes spilling out in a desperate pant.
Your shoulders fold forwards as you squeeze your thighs together involuntarily, letting out a tiny, distinctly animal whimper. Your hands ball up into tight fists, you knead them against your heat in an effort to relieve some of the ache.
Your teeth nibble down hard onto your bottom lip until you draw blood. The coppery taste lingers on your tongue as you unfurl your fingers, hovering over the keyboard to concoct a response that is the perfect blend of polite and suggestive.
Your head is swimming, yes, but it is your body that is utterly submerged in a viscous, inescapable kind of heat.
Finally,finally, you are going to meet the Tiger.
-Two Years Ago-
You lift the porcelain cup, pressing it against your mouth. It is cool on your swollen lips, you wince a little as the aroma fills your nose. The tea in front of you is fragrant, ancient five spice, infused with black pepper and cardamom. It is bitter and intense, and your stomach curls into a knot.
“Drink up, would you?”
Your head snaps up, you roll your eyes. A habitual response, of sorts.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Laelia.”
Your friend just beams at you, unbothered as she flops down in front of you. She is a mess of tangled limbs, strands of hair falling out of its precarious updo. Laelia shrugs, fingernails scratching at a spot on her neck.
“The tea will help with the aftermath, no need to be such a bitch.”
She peppers her words with a sunny smile and you just grumble in response. Reluctantly, you draw the cup closer to you and a take a long sip of the hot liquid. It burns, but it does ease the dull ache in your lower body and the rawness emanating between your legs.
“So,” She begins, her voice dipping into a conspiratorial tone. “How was he?”
You tilt your head to one side, thinking back to the events of the night prior.
Lips trailing down your skin, a rough tongue lapping fervently at your heat. A man who was all eager eyes and needy whines, one for each thrust and snap of his hips into yours.
A flash of warmth travels through your body at the memory.
“It was good,” You mumble, “The knotting really fucking hurt though.”
Laelia cackles loudly in response, reaching over to poke at your ribs.
“I’m so proud of my girl finally getting laid,” She sighs affectionately, “Your first time.” She clasps her hands together and for a moment you swear there are God actual tears misting in her eyes. Her face wrinkles into the slightest of frowns. “Even if it was with the Dog, of all of them…”
You suppress a smile at her dismissive tone.
“Hey, he was… he was good.”
He was. He was as good as you could ask for- especially given it was your first time. He was messy with how he handled you, sloppy with his thrusts and needy with how he had pawed at your breasts and your waist…. and, you muse to yourself, it had been good. Really fucking good.
“Zodiac sex,” Laelia sighs wistfully, stroking the air in front of her chin like she’s caressing an imaginary beard, “To be honest with you, ‘good’ is an understatement. Zodiac sex almost makes for permanently giving up human dick.”
You let out a noncommittal huff in response.
“Alas, such is the life of a Zodiac animal,” Laelia chirps, slinging an arm around your shoulder.
“Yep.” You mutter.
You happen to be one of Twelve people in the world infused with the spirit and soul of a different Zodiac animal. Due to this, you aren’t entirely human – while you look like any other mortal to the human eye, you have physical differences. All of your senses are finely sharpened, far beyond the capacity of a human’s. Your strength and endurance is that of an animal’s. Your pulse races at double speed, your internal organs are larger and stronger.
Different members of the Zodiac have heightened skills that align to their respective Zodiac animals - for you, it’s your nearly photographic memory- like that of a rabbit’s. All different side effects of having Zodiac animal blood run through your veins.
You aren’t entirely sure why you were chosen to inhabit the soul of a Zodiac animal. Myth says that it is in your blood because it was always fated to be, written in the stars and spoken aloud by the moon.
Whatever the reason, at the end of the day- your soul is split in two fragments. One half yours, the other half your ancestor’s – the Rabbit.
Twelve Zodiac animals, twelve humans. Even though you and the other eleven are scattered across the world, you are destined to one day come together. You are intuitively connected, as if there are thousands of intricate and unbreakable ties that bind the Twelve together.
It is an odd sense of comfort, knowing that even in your moments of loneliness and isolation – there are eleven other souls in the world who feel the same way you do. That your bizarre gene map isn’t a single anomaly, but one split into twelve.
The Zodiac animal that dwelled within you is both a blood blessing and a blood curse.
A blood blessing because you have experienced first hand the intensity and depth of the Zodiac hybrid connection. After all, it was how you and Laelia had met, years ago – crossed paths, the Rabbit and the Monkey frozen in place as they felt something inside of them click, like cogs shifting into gear. That harmonious click was a feeling that humans couldn’t feel, wouldnever feel.
However, it was also a blood curse. You are not able to have sex with a human being, and if you are to do so – you will revert into your animal form. It is a glass wall of cruelty, designed to keep the Zodiac members and humankind apart, constructed to keep the Twelve together.
You take another sip of your tea, eyeing your friend thoughtfully.
“So… who did you have your first time with, Laelia?”
It’s a topic she has carefully dodged for the last few years, and the question catches her off guard. Her eyes widen a fraction, she uncrosses and crosses her legs. Finally, she lets out a soft sigh.
“My first time?”
“Uh huh.”
“I… well… my first time was with the Tiger.”
The moment she says the words, something shifts in the air between you. Laelia’s lips curve carefully around the word, his name. Her pupils dilate, she swallows hard. She is aroused, you can smell it in the air. Her body twitches, and you can feel curiosity tug deep and dark in your belly.
“The tiger?”
The word is foreign on your tongue, and she just nods slowly.
“He’s…” Her eyes flash, you watch her bottom lip quiver, her tongue darting out to lick it. Your close scrutiny doesn’t miss any detail and you wonder who exactly the Tiger is, for her to be reacting so strongly from the mention of his name alone.
“He’s like no one else in the Zodiac.” She says finally. “Trust me.”
Her eyes bore into yours and for once there is no trace of laughter on her lips, a lustful sigh left in its place. You stare at her and wonder how it feels, to have lips parted, eyes glossy, just from the mere mention of a creature’s name.
“How so?” You ask curiously, and Laelia gives you a hard stare. You must pass whatever assessment she’s giving you, because she relents with a sigh.
“Every Zodiac animal I’ve met,” She begins, “All are trying so hard to channel their humanside, you know? Blend in with the rest of the world. The Ox, for example, is always trying to look for a way to change who he is so he can be with the human he loves.” Laelia rolls her eyes at that, you keep your gaze on her.
You know that your friend, ever the nomadic traveller, has met most members of the Zodiac. You, on the other hand, have met two - the lively and reckless Monkey, who is sitting in front of you now, and the sweet and naive Dog, who had you wrapped around him yesterday.
“…They’re all trying to figure it out. Figure themselves out. But not the Tiger. The Tiger knowswho he is. The Tiger understandswho he is.” Her voice quivers, “He’s more animal than human.”
You feel a tingle in between your legs, it weaves in through the soreness of last night’s activity and you wince. Laelia doesn’t notice, letting out a barely audible sigh.
“The motherfucking Tiger,” She murmurs, shaking her head hard and letting out a high pitched laugh. The conversation is over, evident by the finality in her tone and the return of her signature giggle.
However, you can hear what she’s really thinking – the way her pulse has picked up even more, the thrum over her skin, the tinged pink in her cheeks.
“The Tiger,” You echo, as you gaze down at your tea, the peppery scent filling your nostrils as you feel an intrigued shiver work its way up your spine.
-Today-
You bite your lip nervously, lacing your fingers together and wringing your hands out. You stare down at the half full cup of black tea in front of you, trying to settle your frayed nerves.
You are seated in a small coffee shop, nice and dimly lit with soft jazzy hiphop playing in the background. It was the Tiger’s recommendation, a name and location dropped in an email sent two days ago.
Your senses, more finely tuned than a human’s, can pick up on even the most miniscule of sounds – the scrape of chair legs against the floor, the sound of someone opening the trashcan at the back of the store, snippets of conversation around you. It feels like all of your sense are on alert, each new person that walks through the door your eyes are locked on, trying to figure out if it is him.
Where is he? You are impatient. You try and reason with yourself that you know nothing about the elusive Tiger, that what you think you want from him may just all be a concoction of your imagination. You tell yourself to relax, but no matter what, you can’t. You are on edge, as if your body knows something your mind doesn’t.
Then, you freeze.
The muscles in your body lock, the scent wrapping around you. It is like smoke, enveloping you in a dark huskiness as you glance up towards the door.
He’s here.
Your eyes meet his. His are like amber, flecks of gold and tangerine orange. They don’t give anything away as he strolls towards you, hands in pockets. He is wearing a black sweater, thick cashmere that gently hugs his long frame. He is taller than you expected, long legs and a set jaw and there, nestled around his neck is a black choker. It is leather, and right in the centre is a silver ring that glints where it sits nestled in between his collarbones.
You feel something inside of you simmer, like a flame licking at driftwood, as he approaches.
He keeps his eyes on yours the entire time, you are locked in his stare until he is right in front of you.
He stands above you, your head tilted up as finally he smiles, a flicker of his lips.
“The Rabbit, I take it?”
His voice is smooth, deep, it caresses you. He doesn’t wait for a response, pulling out the chair opposite you to sit down.
Closer, you can smell him – and there it is, that pull, that white hot and icy cold feeling consuming you whole, the feeling you only get with other Zodiac spirits.
“I’m Kim Namjoon,” He continues, and his eyes fall onto your lips. You feel your throat go dry because he is giving you an appraising stare, his eyes making no attempt to hide how he is gazing over your entire body. Like you are prey in front of him, waiting to be eaten.
“…The Tiger.”
He reaches out a hand and you grasp it, his thumb caresses the back of your hand. On his fingers are several silver rings. Your eyes fall on his hands – long slender fingers and the sudden thought of those fingers being knuckle deep inside your heat flits through your mind.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.”
His voice cuts through your thoughts and you snap backwards, plucked out of your thoughts. Your body flushes with heat.
“Yes, it’s nice to meet you too,” You respond, and you clear your throat.
A slight silence falls between the pair of you, Namjoon’s eyes are on yours, assessing you carefully. He is controlled, you realize – reading the situation and reading you, his eyes tracking every movement like a predator stalking his prey. His eyes rake from your waist up to your breasts, then to your lips. You see a muscle in his jaw twitch, you notice the curl of his fingers into a fist, hear him swallow.
“So why did you email me?” You ask, your voice a touch breathless. He smirks a little at your words, leans back on his chair. The silver ring around his neck swings with his movement.
“Because I wanted to get to know you. The Tiger wanted to get to know the Rabbit,” He says simply, lightly, before his gaze darkens a touch. “And I like getting what I want.”
His tone is thickened with honey and you squeeze your thighs together.
“Oh,” You respond, and Namjoon’s smile widens, you feel a flutter deep in your belly, a prickle work its way over your skin. Animal instinct, telling you both to run but also to go closer, danger and lust entwining into a fine skin over your body.
“Oh,” He echoes lightly, before he leans closer. You can feel it, the excruciating thud between your thighs, you squeeze your core in an attempt to relieve the ache but it only worsens.
Namjoon’s eyes flash and you wonder if he can sense it, how tensely your thighs are clamped together, if he can smell the sloppy wetness of your cunt.
“Are you going to give me what I want?”
His fingers reach up, skim over the strap of leather around his neck, then over his jaw to his lips.
Your eyes hone in on them, full lips and you feel a shuddery exhale escape your lungs. You are locked in place, a rabbit caught in headlights, so to speak.
Paralyzed by Kim Namjoon and the tenseness in your body, the thud deep in your pussy, the way the leather choker shifts with the bob of his Adams apple.
“Yes.”
Namjoon lives in a spacious apartment across the road from the coffee shop. His apartment is unexpectedly charming, filled with intriactely carved furniture pieces, and modern abstract paintings. Most of all though, you notice the piles of books messily scattered on various surfaces.
You barely know anything about Namjoon, what he does or who he is. You know nothing beyond the feline blood that flows in his veins. In fact, nobody in the Zodiac really knows anything about the elusive Tiger, he had always been known for staying hidden in the shadows.
You gaze over at him now; he is standing on the opposite end of his living room. His fingers are deftly taking off the heavy wrist that adorns his wrist. His eyes flicker up as soon as you focus your attention on him, he meets your stare directly with one of his own.
You can pick out in each of his movements exactly how poised he is. Even as he stands lazily awry in the comfort of his own home, he is ready to strike at any moment, always alert, constantly aware.
A product of the Tiger dwelling in him, you suppose.
“Your home is really nice.” You stammer out. Namjoon’s lips quirk upwards in response, places his watch down on a nearby table.
“Thank you,” He murmurs, walking towards you. Each step he takes is purposeful, his eyes tracking the way you shift your weight from hip to hip.
His gaze is heavy and you bask in it, feeling a slow throb beginning to ebb inside of you. There is a familiar tug deep in your stomach, a stirring so deeply embedded that it feels as if it is bouncing through your bones. A gravitational pull that you only ever get when you are in the presence of another Zodiac member. However, mingled in with that feeling is something else – a buzz of longing, a wave of intensity, and you know that is due to Namjoon and Namjoon alone.
He is nearly in front of you, and you are hyperaware of each miniscule twitch of his lips, the way he swallows thickly. You can hear the grind of his sharp teeth, the hum of tension he lets out. You can smell the arousal in the air, taste the pure, animalistic want coursing between the two of you.
Your body aches, and suddenly you are thinking about how badly you want his body crooked around yours, his strong hands gripping at the flesh of your waist. You want nothing more than to feel the waves of intent rolling off of him right now. You are dying to be touched, after so many years of not being touched at all, save for a few encounters with different members of the Zodiac.
The thought of it, finally receiving release, of having him inside of you, his hands possessively gliding over your skin, voice growling in your ear… your body shudders in lust.
Namjoon is in front of you now. He leans in, tilts his head towards yours and tips your chin up so that you are facing him. Your lips are parted, each breath ragged with your want.
“Little Rabbit,” He murmurs, his voice is low and soft but you can hear the greediness in his words. “I want to claim you as mine.”
Your breath hooks in your throat, the sound of your needy agreement has Namjoon letting out a snarl.
He spins you around so that your stomach is pressed against the wall of his living room, he grasps your cotton shirtdress in his hands and tears it from collar to hem, muscles flexing as he tears the fabric as if it were a piece of tissue paper. The destroyed fabric flutters to the floor and you let out a soft gasp.
The Zodiac members are strong, stronger than the average human, but Namjoon is a different beast entirely.
He lets out a primal hum, two of his fingers pressing flat at the top of your spine. He slowly brushes the hair away, exposing the nape of your neck, you shiver at the sensation of his skin on yours.
“No panties,” He comments in a voice that is like molten velvet, the only giveaway is the layer of strain that only your ears can pick up on.
“And why is that?” Namjoon’s fingers continue canvassing down your back, he keeps his other palm splayed on the wall beside your head, pinning you in place. You let out a tiny whimper, shifting your hips desperately. The dull throb between your legs is getting harder, filling you with a feverish urgency.
“Because I was meeting you,” You whisper out. Namjoon just clicks his tongue, his fingers are now working slow, teasing patterns into your lower back.
“So, because you were meeting me, you thought it would be a good idea to wear no panties?” His voice dips lower, his fingers reach the top of the curve of your ass.
You stiffen in anticipation as his fingers trail down until they hover right above your pussy. You are all too aware of how wet you are, and you let out a whine at his words.
“Y-yes-”
“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you about the virtue of patience?” He asks sweetly, his fingers are so close that you can hardly think straight. “Or are you always in a rush, little rabbit?”
You can barely form a response, his fingers are now tracing slow, light strokes around your wet slit, dancing around the inner apex of your thighs. The throb between your legs is more like a heavy knock, you feel like you are drunk off of the raging lust burning through your entire body.
“It’s because you want me to put my fingers straight inside of you, isn’t it? You want to get my rings all covered in your wetness? I saw you looking at them earlier.”
His voice is hypnotic and teasing and you just nod, rolling your hips upward in an attempt to be closer to the tease of his fingers.
“Yes, Namjoon I-”
“Don’t move.” Namjoon snarls suddenly, you freeze in place at his command. Your body protests, you want to shift your hips until they collide with his fingers, but the authority in his voice stops you. Your legs tremble. Your pussy aches.
“Tell me,” Namjoon asks, “What exactly were you thinking when you were staring at my hands earlier?”
You let out a shuddery exhale. “I… I was thinking about how much I wanted your fingers inside of me.”
“Mm.” Namjoon’s voice is husky, he moves his palm from the wall to your collarbones. He runs his fingers over them, then down to your sides. He cups your waist, before he glides up to find your breast.
This time, he doesn’t tease – his fingers immediately find your hard nipple and he flicks over it with his fingers.
Then again, this time rolling it between his fingertips and letting go after a hard pinch.
You moan loudly in response, your body is spilling over with fever.
“It’s so easy to get you worked up,” Namjoon chuckles, “Tell me more about what you were thinking.”
“I… I was thinking about how I want you to fuck me out with your fingers, and how I want you to mount me and fill me up with, um, with-”
“With?”
Namjoon’s voice darkens, he moves closer so that his mouth is by your ear. His fingers are still toying with your nipple, in long, drawn out strokes.
You want to desperately to move, his other hand still stroking lazy circles around your soaking wet slit.
You ache from head to toe.
“…Fill me up with your cum.” The words spill out of your lips breathlessly, and Namjoon hums against your ear. Your knees weaken at the feeling of his breath against your neck.
“Such a good, needy bitch.” He sighs. “Such a pretty, tight little bunny slut.”
“Yes,” You cry out in response, the ache between your legs is so deep that you are clenching and relaxing your pussy in an attempt to relieve the pressure. You are impatient, desperate, and Namjoon is relishing it, enjoying the wriggle of your hips and the soft whines that escape you.
His lips suck against your earlobe, tracing down to the dip of your neck. You can feel his breath ghosting over your skin, the gnawing ache between your legs is almost unbearable.
And then, with a growl against the nape of your neck, Namjoon slips two fingers inside of you.
You are wet enough for him to slide in knuckle deep without any resistance. The sudden sensation of him stretching out your tight pussy has your hips bucking backwards, desperate to feel more, your ass pressing against him in desperation.
You can feel his crotch behind you, his hard cock straining against his pants. You rut against him desperately.
Namjoon lets out a low rumble, he reaches up and laces his fingers through your hair, tugging your head, hard, so that your cheek is pressed against the wall.
It is cool beneath your skin and you feel a thrill jolt up hard and fast through your spine as he tugs again at your hair. Your scalp stings and your eyes flicker sideways to see Namjoon staring at you with a hungry, lustful smile.
“Did I say you could move?”
You feel something heavy stir in your belly, anchored deep inside of you as he pushes his two fingers inside of you even deeper.
You can feel it, the edges of the rings on his fingers inside of you, the obscene sounds of your wetness, the feeling of him wrapping your hair nice and tightly around his fist.
You are full of it, a tightly stitched together yearning. A hunger that can only be satisfied by him, and him alone. A primal desperation fills you whole as he begins to slide his fingers in and out of you.
You are so turned on that you can feel it in every cell of your body. Your hyperaware senses feel everything tenfold, your skin is more sensitive, your clit feels everything more intensely.
Namjoon reaches up with his thumb and massages it deeper against your clit, and you wince at the sharpness of pleasure his touch induces.
You force yourself not to move even though all you want to do is fuck yourself against his hand, you deny the animalistic desire coursing through your veins. You are being undone by the fucking of Namjoon’s silver ridged fingers in and out of you, and his thumb, roughly massaging against your clit and causing you to gasp out cries of pleasure, only unravels you faster.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Namjoon brings his face closer to you, your cheek is still pressed against one wall, hair entangled in his free hand.
“I like doing this,” He continues, “Having a beautiful woman’s cunt wrapped around my fingers, hearing her beg out my name.” He lets out a soft growl, “Of course, I can’t fuck the humans. But I can make them beg for me until their voices are dry.”
He leans even closer, his lips are by your ear and he crooks his fingers while they are inside of you. Your insides curl, your body tenses as it begins to climb.
You let out a loud whine, a pant of his name, as the pleasure begins to build and unfurl inside of you. All you can feel is a clamouring, hungry anticipation because you are so close.
“I can’t fuck the humans but I can fuck you, can’t i? I can fill you up to the brim with my cum and make sure every human and every animal can smell me and only me inside of you. Make it so that you are all mine, and I’m all yours… does that sound like something you want?”
You cry out in affirmation, Namjoon tugs harder against your hair and presses his thumb against your clit again, it elicits a cry from your lips. You want to grind against him so badly, he is taking you to the edge so fucking slowly that your head spins, every muscle is locks in eagerness.
“Are you going to cum around my fingers?”
“Yes, I… I’m c-close-”
“You’re not to cum until I tell you to. If you do, then I won’t give you any more. Is that understood?” Namjoon’s voice slices through yours, and you feel your thighs tremble at the command in his words. It turns you on more than you care to admit, your pussy throbs at the realization that you aren’t going to have your release quite yet.
“Y-yes, but I want it Namjoon, I want it so badly, please-”
“You are only allowed to cum when you show me what an obedient, good girl you are.”
You let out a guttural whine at his words, your pussy tightens and clenches and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“I want to cum Namjoon, please, God, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll-“
The messy pleas fall from your lips and Namjoon hisses in, tugs harder against your hair and pushes a third finger inside of you.
“Namjoon please-” He pulls his fingers out of you, and you let out a desperate mewl at the absence of his fingers.
“What did I say earlier?”
You let out a shaky breath, “That I’m yours-”
“And have I said you can cum yet?”
“N-n-no-”
His thumb suddenly strokes a confident swipe up your slit, pressing hard and fast repeatedly against your clit before his movements slow into long, sensuous strokes. You let out a suppressed cry of pleasure, feeling the orgasm climbing yet again, your jaw clenched as you try to resist it.
The ecstasy of your orgasm is so fucking close that you can taste it in the air.
Namjoon murmurs against your neck, pulls his fingers out and you almost collapse forward, so full of want that you wonder if you are going to explode.
“Turn around.” He lets go of your hair and steps away from you, you are trembling as you turn and rest your back against the wall.
You are naked, and Namjoon stands in front of you, he is still dressed in his cashmere sweater and black jeans. He reaches behind his head, tugs off the sweater and t-shirt in one smooth motion to reveal his chest.
He is lean, his muscles taut and sloping under his smooth skin. You swallow hard, and Namjoon keeps his eyes intent on your face.
“So, you must touch yourself a lot,” Namjoon begins, his voice undeniably akin to a purr, a tiger’s purr. “Us Zodiac animals have a very high sex drive, don’t we?”
You nod, your eyes locked on Namjoon as he unzips his jeans. You can see the strain of his hard cock underneath the black denim, you swallow hard. Your cunt is still aching, desperate to reach climax after being so close.
“I do, I touch myself a lot.”
“Oh?” His eyebrow quirks upwards, “With those pretty fingers of yours?”
“Yes, or a vibrator.”
“Ah.” His eyes light up, his voice lowers in a deeper, darker purr. “And what do you usually think about when you’re fucking yourself with a vibrator?”
He pulls off his jeans, exposing his thighs – taut muscle, hips that have two lines that disappear underneath the band of his underwear.
He pulls down his underwear too, his eyes challengingly on yours. He is a big cock, expected from an animal of a Zodiac, but this is something else entirely – he is so thick that you wonder what it will feel like, stuffing you full. A fresh tremor of animal arousal races over your skin.
“I think about getting fucked by the Zodiac,” You admit.
“About getting fucked by me?” Namjoon asks.
“Yes,” You confess. Your eyes fall on Namjoon’s cock, it sits up straight, erect, the tip moist with precum. Your mouth waters, you feel the knock throb deeper and harder between your legs.
“From now on, are you going to think about me and only me when you fuck that pretty cunt against a vibrator?” He asks, a slight edge to his voice. A dangerous lilt to his purr.
“Y-yes,” You whine almost unintelligibly, a satisfied smile melts over Namjoon’s features. You think to yourself that like this, muscles tensed and a possessive glint in his eyes, Namjoon truly is the embodiment of a tiger.
“Can I put this on you?” He asks suddenly, his fingers fluttering up to brush against the leather choker around his neck.
You nod, feeling a flurry of excitement in your belly. He deftly undoes the strap of his leather choker, stepping towards you as he carefully fastens it around your neck.
It is heavier than you expected, the leather supple against your skin, the silver ring resting between your collarbones. Namjoon stays close to you, his eyes latched on the leather around your neck. His lips are parted, and his eyes flash with arousal.
“So pretty,” He murmurs, his fingers trailing up from the collar to your parted lips. His thumb caresses your bottom lip, he places a finger in between your lips and you suck down on its length obediently. “Such a good slut for me.” He groans, and a fresh rush of lust races through your veins.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asks softly.
You nod frantically, you tilt your head up to him. “Please, please-”
“How badly?”
“So badly, more than anything, pleaseNamjoon-”
“Turn around,” He demands suddenly, his command harsh and unrelenting.
You immediately turn, as soon as your back is facing him, his fingers grasp at your hips. They dig in hard, you let out a cry at the feeling of it as his hand reaches in between your bodies, his thumb roughly teasing at your clit.
You let out a shaky moan, pressing against him. You are acutely aware of the throb between your legs as he positions the tip of his cock against your wet entrance.
Your breath sucks in desperately as his pants grow louder, his fingers clawing into your skin. He moves with such strength and speed that it only turns you on more, heightens your arousal.
“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight.” He snarls, reaching up wrapping his hand around your hair, tugging until your head tilts back with a gasp. “I’m going to claim you and make you mine.”
You let out a wanton moan as he closes the space between your upper bodies, his lips latching onto your neck.
He bites down hard onto the sensitive skin there, the mixture of pleasure and pain flows through your body as he sucks down hard on your skin. He is marking you, and raw, instinctual pleasure causes you to moan even louder. His cock is still teasing at your entrance, so close to being inside of you that you moan louder.
“Do you know how fucking hotthis looks on you?” He murmurs, tugging on the choker around your neck. He hums as his fingers skim over your neck, under your jaw, where he has given you mottled lovebites.
“Please Namjoon,” You pant out, flinching as he pulls his mouth away from your neck, “Please fuck me.”
Whatever resolve Namjoon had earlier crumbles. His hips snap, and with a sloppy, intense thrust, he is inside of you.
You let out a cry at the sensation of him stretching your walls – you need a moment to adjust to his thickness and length, a moment Namjoon doesn’t lend you.
He immediately starts thrusting into you, his hands locking tight around your wrist so that you are pinned in place. Your cry dissolves into a moan of pleasure as you adjust to the feeling of him fucking you.
Your moans interweave with his and for a moment you are utterly lost in the sounds of his groans and whines, the hard, domineering thrusts of his cock deep into you, the slaps of skin and the burn around your wrists.
You haven’t been entered in such a long time, and the feeling of being filled up by Namjoon has you almost falling apart. You can feel every inch of him, feel the ruthless impact of each one of his ministrations, and the sheer power behind each of his thrusts has you an absolute mess.
You are soaking wet, and the obscene sounds of your cunt fill the space surrounding you. It’s as if the sounds spur Namjoon on as he growls louder, letting go of one wrist to wrap his fingers around the base of your neck.
You feel your core coil in arousal at the presence of his hand, weighty, at the base of your neck, his fingers locking around the metal ring on the collar.
“Such a good needy slut for me,” Namjoon murmurs, and you let out a moan, the vibrations of your voice against his palm as he tightens his grip. You let out a choked sound of pleasure as he fucks into you harder, slowing the pace enough to roll his hips up and ensure every inch of him is buried deep within you.
The heady sensation of his fingers locked around your neck, his other hand around your wrist, his hips snapping at a rhythmic pace into you… it has you letting out filthy sounds and pleading cries of his name.
“More,” You beg out, and Namjoon lets out a groan, thrusting into you harder. It makes you wince, you are getting closer, excitement and anticipation coiling in your belly.
“Your cunt is so fucking wet for me,” Namjoon grunts, “It feels so fucking good.”He keeps his fingers around your throat and you moan louder.
You are frantic, desperate, feeling your orgasm climb. It is rolling over you in waves, you can feel a heavy throb deep in your pussy and your entire body is hot and cold.
You are writhing under Namjoon’s body now, he doesn’t tire – if anything, it’s as if you losing control beneath him only turns him on more, he thrusts deeper and harder, your eyes sting and you feel yourself on the brink of climax.
His hand tightens, your vision blurs, his cock hits that spot inside of you and you let out a desperate cry.
“I’m going to-”
He stops suddenly, his hands carding down to your hips, completely still. The absence has you panting urgently for air, a touch bewildered as his lips touch your ear.
“You’re all mine, aren’t you?”
His voice, husky and fevered and possessive, has something dark and fiery igniting inside of you. You are so aroused that you can feel it crackling over your skin, desperate for him to be inside of you again.
“Yes!” You cry out brokenly.
“Yeswhat?” He demands in a low tone and you blush with desperation, buck your hips against his, to no avail.
“Yes Master,” The words comes rushing out and with that, Namjoon thrusts again and you fucking collapse.
Pleasure is rolling off of you in waves, you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to withhold how damn good it feels.
Namjoon slows his thrusts enough, grinding back into you with thrusts that match each wave and throb of your orgasm. He can sense the pace of each orgasm that rides through your body, and with each careful thrust he prolongs the last, until you have cum multiple times.
Your entire body is tingling, and you lean your head back, blissed out as a thoroughly fucked moan escapes your throat.
“Such a good girl,” Namjoon praises, and you shiver. “Can you take more for me?”
You glance behind you to see Namjoon gazing at you, sweaty and wild-eyed, a hungry look on his face as he drinks you in, having basked in watching you cum around him.
“Y-yes,” You stammer faintly, you are absolutely wrecked with bliss and Namjoon hums in approval as he reaches down in front of you, his fingers finding your clit.
You let out a strangled cry as he begins to rub against your swollen, sensitive clit in circular motions.
“You still want more, don’t you?” He cooes in your ear, his voice husky and sweet, a contrast to the filthy praises that are coming forth from his lips. “SUch a needy fucking slut for my cock. What, little Rabbit hasn’t been fucked in a while?”
You splutter out in response, the feeling of him against your clit immense. He starts to slowly slide in and out of you, his hands digging into your hips, fingernails clawing at your thighs.
“Who was the last person who got to fuck into your sweet little cunt?”
You bite back a whimper as he starts to thrust into you harder.
“Th-the Ox-”
“The Ox? Did you like that? Or do you like this?”
He emphasizes his words with a hard, punishing snap of his hips and you fold forwards with a whine of pleasure. He angles his thrusts to hit your spot and your insides coil up tightly with a white hot sear of pleasure.
“This,this,I like this, oh my God, I’m yoursNamjoon, fuck-”
Namjoon hums in satisfaction, tilting his hips upwards and fucking into you so hard and fast that you can feel it ricocheting through your body. You are still trembling from your orgasms, but somehow he pulls something even deeper out of you and you feel your back arch, stiffening as he picks up the pace even more.
Each push of his cock enters you deeper, harder, sending a satisfying ache reverberating through your core. He is growling in earnest now, deep, low pitched sounds of arousal, mingled with the occasional “Fucking hell”, and “Take it like a good girl.” You feel your breath start to pitch inwards, as yet another orgasm rides over you, this one softer and sweeter and dulled around the edges.
Still, your pussy tightens and the feeling of it has Namjoon letting out a particularly loud grunt as he thrusts hard and deep inside of you.
“Fuck,”He bites the word out, his body shakes, he punches the wall with a loud growl as he reaches climax, filling you with his cum.
You stay crooked in his body, as he rides out his orgasm and slowly pulls out of you.
His cum drips out, you are so full of it, full of him.
Your thighs ache and you feel so thoroughly used, so completely fucked out, that all you can do is moan.
Your body slumps forward as you let out a staggered sigh. It feels as if pleasure and relief are washing over your body in waves.
Namjoon is tired too, you can hear his pants for breath as he holds himself up with two palms flat against the wall, his legs trembling in exertion. After a beat of quiet, he stands up straight, turning and scooping you up in his arms.
He heads straight to a room that you assume is his bedroom, placing you delicately on top of the sheets.
You let out a soft moan at the softness of the mattress beneath you, and Namjoon carefully brushes the sweaty hair away from your face.
“How do you feel?”
His voice is soothing, and a delirious smile melts across your face.
“Amazing.”
“Good. I feel amazing too.”
Your eyes are closed, but you can sense Namjoon’s smile as he relaxes beside you. You don’t touch, instead, you both lie there, breathing in deeply.
“Rest here for a few hours.” He murmurs, “It’s important to recover.”
You nod, knowing that your body is going to be sore tomorrow. Namjoon hadn’t knotted inside of you, but still, you know that you are going to find it difficult to walk come morning. The thought alone has a faint tremour of arousal flitting through your belly.
Namjoon reaches over, his fingers nestle into your hair and comb through your scalp carefully. The feeling sends soft shivers of comfort down your back, you smile at the sensations of it. His movements aren’t like before, harsh and dominant – instead, he is surprisingly tender.
“You felt very good,” Namjoon says suddenly. “Your… your body. It felt…” Your eyes flutter open, you crane your head to the side. He is lying on his back, one arm behind his head, the other still stroking your hair. His eyes are closed, and he looks serene, eyelashes fluttering with each contented breath.
He doesn’t finish his sentence and you can’t help the small burst of pride that sings through your chest.
“It did?”
He nods. “If Seokjin knew about how good you felt, he’d want you in an instant.”
“…Seokjin?”
“The Horse.”
Namjoon opens his eyes and smiles at you. “Although to be quite honest, I don’t want to share you with him. Although it would be fun.” He lets out a soft, throaty chuckle. “Still… I’d rather keep you all to myself.”
You let out a tired laugh and after a moment, Namjoon joins in. Your laughter fades, and you breathe in deeply.
Your body feels warm and elastic, content. Sore, yes – but you feel a glow and a warmth that you have never felt before.
Namjoon suddenly shifts in place, hoisting himself upwards so that he is hovering above you. You blink up at him, he has a soft expression on his face as he leans in and nuzzles against your cheek, pressing his lips to your ear once, and then again, this time against your cheek. You let out a sigh, your body filling with warmth at the affectionate, instinctive gesture.
“Thank you.” He murmurs against your ear before he hoists himself up again, returning to his place beside you on the bed.
He lets out a loud yawn and you find yourself joining in, suddenly fatigued. You drift to sleep feeling content, Namjoon’s hand still curved intimately around your head, fingers laced in your hair.
The wind is brisk against your skin as you step out of Namjoon’s apartment block a few hours later, still a touch dazed from both your consecutive orgasms and the two hour nap.
The cool kiss of the breeze pulls you out of your pleasure induced haze. The slight buzz humming through your body and the cum still dripping from your swollen cunt are constant reminders of the evening you shared with Namjoon.
He’s like no one else in the Zodiac.
The words float back into your thoughts. You wonder idly as you walk down the street if you are going to see him again, Kim Namjoon, with golden eyes and the blood of the Tiger.
Your phone beeps, dragging you out of your thoughts. Your ears prick as you fish it out of your clutch, checking the screen.
“One new email?” Your murmur aloud, unlocking your phone.
You stop in place, twisting your body sideways so that you are facing one of the building windows opposite you.
You catch sight of your reflection – widened, fucked out eyes and glossy, swollen lips. Your gaze lands on your neck, which is mottled with bites and bruises… and adorned with Namjoon’s leather choker.
Your fingers brush over the silver ring.
Even now, aching and sore from how hard Namjoon had fucked into you, the thought of meeting the Tiger again has your blood racing.
A slight smile fights at the corner of your lips as you pull out your phone and type out a response.
I look forward to meeting you again too.
amynote: i borrowed inspiration for the the zodiac hybrid ‘turning into the animal after a specific action from the opposite sex of a non-zodiac member’ from the manga Fruits Basket. (Also!! In this universe all of BTS are part of the Zodiac Twelve. I’ll leave you to guess who is who!) + Thank you to those who voted for the request. I had a lot of fun writing this lil piece! ♡
➭ “To you, matters of the heart have always been simple. You’ve always lived by three rules: you don’t do emotions, you don’t do attachment, and you don’t do love. That is, until you meet the enigma that is Kim Namjoon- a man who shakes your entire world upside down.”
The clock face reads seven minutes past 2am. It is that time of the evening when everything seems amplified, bolder somehow.
The sounds of your footsteps against the wooden floors are louder. The shadows cast against the white walls are larger. Even the moonlight that seeps in through the windows is brighter. Everything is splashed in inky blue and the fading yellow of moonlight. There is a forgotten piles of books stacked on the kitchen counter, sitting beside a half eaten bag of cinnamon chips.
Everything is more noticeable at this time of night, nothing slips through the seams.
More fine tuned than anything else is the exhilaration that is humming through your veins, the excitement that ends with a persistent thud in your chest as Kim Namjoon steps towards you.
He gathers your face in his hands and his eyes search yours. He captures you in a prolonged moment that feels like everything else at this time of the evening – it feels surreal, slow, magnified. More intense, more brilliant, draped in velvet.
You are mesmerized, frozen and fluid all at once. Namjoon’s eyes squint slightly as he smiles at you, eyes tender and sweet. His palms are warm against your cheeks and your breath rushes out as he leans in closer.
He kisses you slowly. Carefully, like he is memorizing the feel of your lips against his.
Your breath catches in your throat, Namjoon pulls back a fraction. His eyes lingers on your lips, he swallows and his Adams apple bobs up and down. There is something fused there, written in the chaste brush of his lips against yours.
He kisses at your bottom lip delicately, pressing stamps of his mouth against your lips and then your cheek, before his mouth is by the base of your ear.
“I want you so damn bad.”
You feel like you were about to buckle, wrapped up entirely in sensation of his breath against your neck, his words whispered quietly into your ear like they were a secret. You tilt your head back, your lips parting, and a barely there whine escapes from your throat.
His lips find yours and you sigh against them, his tongue licking your bottom lip. His hands slowly trail down from where they were cupping your face to your shoulders. He kneads his fingers into the taut muscles there, you let out a choked moan – pleasure from the feeling of his fingers working rhythmic circles into his muscles, the seed of anticipation drawn out by his kiss, expressive and slow and with a hint of urgency.
Namjoon’s palms glide down your arms to rest on your hips and your teeth caught around his bottom lip, and he let out a soft groan.
Your kisses shudder to a stop, his forehead pressed against yours and the only sound that fills the space between your bodies is the sounds of your breaths for air, deep inhales and a pounding drumbeat that is in your heart and in your core and crawling over every inch of your skin.
You think to yourself, holy fucking shit this is it – this is what all those cheesy love songs are about, this is why people do stupid things all the time, this is it. The swell in your chest and the weight of his hands on your hips, and most of all the thrill of knowing that in just a few moments he is going to kiss you again.
As expected, Namjoon chases into you and his lips find yours. This time, harder. You feel a heat trickle inside of you, your hips tilt up into Namjoon’s as his tongue swirls around yours.
He moves, wrapping his arms tight around your lower waist, tugging you even closer into his proximity. His kisses are deep, tantalizingly slow teases of his tongue against yours as your bodies slot together.
You let out a gasp into his mouth as his palms expertly glide upwards to caress over your waist, your sides, right by the curves of your breasts.
You are not entirely accustomed to this – Namujoon’s back pressed firmly against the wall outside his bedroom door, his arms keeping your body flush against his, and most of all the torturously slow rhythm at which has started to rock his hips against yours.
His head dips down as he kisses you hard and it catches you by surprise, you squeeze your thighs as you hear the quiet moans that are beginning to escape from between his lips.
He is savouring this – you and him, your bodies pressed together like desperate teenagers as all you do is kiss, long and deep and slow.
Namjoon is still in an old, tattered tee and his flannel pyjama pants, you are clad in the dress that you had worn to the party. It’s the middle of the night, the air is humming with anticipation and it feels as if your entire body is throbbing with it too. You go up on your tiptoes, eager for more of his mouth, more of him and his palms settle on your ass, he grabs you in his palms and gives you an appreciative squeeze.
“Mm,” You murmur thickly, your face is tilted up to his. Your breath is going ragged, and you are painfully aware of the heady pulse that has started to take over your sensitive, wet pussy. Namjoon’s fingers skim at the hem of your dress, toying idly with the fabric.
You tremble as his fingertips brush against your thighs, you squeeze your legs together and whimper. You step away from his body and the warmth of his skin against yours, enough for him to pull the fabric off of you in one smooth motion.
You watch with widened eyes as Namjoon tugs his t-shitrt off, you swallow hard as you take in his frame – the lean build of his upper body, the muscles that flex in his arms as he tosses the top to the ground.
His chest heaves with each exerted breath, and his pyjama pants, hung low on his hips, reveal two small lines leading down to the tent in his pants.
You reach behind to your back, aware of how badly you have started to tremble.
Namjoon’s eyes are focused on you as you unclip your bra. Namjoon’s eyes widen, his tongue darts over his lip and he lets out a throaty groan, his hands loop around your hips and tug you back against him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” He sighs in the shell of your ear before he reaches up, his fingers latching firmly around your chin. He peppers a prolonged kiss against your chin, and then another on your collarbone.
“Everything about you,” He murmurs against your neck, “God. I’m so fucking lucky.”
His hand laces into your hair and his fingers wind around the roots and gives a gentle tug. He begins to grind into you – the only thing separating your bodies is the lace of your underwear and his pyjama pants.
It fills you with a sticky heat, the presence of his hands on your waist and the rock of his hips into you. Your hands splay out against his chest as you whimper, they track upwards and loop around his neck.
You press your body harder against him in an attempt to feel more. You can feel his cock – hard and stiff in his pants, pushing against the damp lace between your legs.
“I want you so badly,” The words spill out of your mouth and you press harder against him, rutting harder into him, wanting his cock so badly that it almost feels like you can’t see straight, you can’t breathe straight.
“Fuck!” You cry out, the feeling of his bulge against your now aching clit giving you little relief, and you let out a whimper of desperation at the roar of lust that has started like a fire in your core.
“You get me so hard,” Namjoon moans, his words consume you. You kink your hips harder into him.
Namjoon rests his fingers on your inner thigh, so close to your slit that you suddenly wonder if you are going to explode right then and there.
You restlessly thrust your hips, clenching your pussy, wanting him with every fibre in your body. You press harder against him, his back flat against the wall, and your body melts into his.
Your entire body is begging for him, begging for his fingers to touch your wetness, your cunt which is sore with want.
Namjoon doesn’t oblige, instead he leans in, his breath hot against your ear.
“Feel good baby?” He murmurs, his voice is gruff and you feel a thread of sensations ease up your spine as he nibbles against your earlobe.
His tongue flicks over your pulse point and his fingers ghost over the hem of your underwear- right by your pussy. His fingers tease at the lace trim by the apex of your thigh and you suck in your breath sharply.
You are completely aching with it, his hands stroke at that sensitive stretch of skin… before just as quickly as his fingers had found their way there, mere centimetres away from your wetness, they move.
You let out a series of whines, desperate lamentations at the relief he isn’t giving you – his palm now tracking slow circles of your belly. His hand searches upwards until it meets the swell of your breasts.
It feels like your oxygen is cut off, you feel dizzy, the moan that is starting to gather at your lips becomes a hiss as his fingers begin to languidly stroke around your hard nipple.
All you can feel is the heavy thud between your legs, the blurred rush of desperate filthy thoughts on repeat in your head. Namjoon grazes your erect nipple with two of his fingertips and the relief it grants you has you buckling under his touch, your fingers clinging at his strong shoulders.
Your eyes dart downwards, the thin fabric of his pyjama bottoms reveal the tent in his pants and you can feel his hard cock pressed against your thigh. Namjoon’s fingers latch around your nipple, teasing you in drawn out strokes.
His hand moves to your other breast, he cups at it and then pinches your nipple, you cry out.
You feel like you are about to reach climax just form him touching you like this – so tense and so wound up that you have to fight the urge to reach down between your legs with your fingers and touch yourself.
You are desperate – soaked through your ruined underwear, crammed full with an itching intensity and arousal like nothing you had ever felt before.
Namjoon laces his fingers through yours and glances to the right, the direction of his bedroom. You nod, a silent answer to an unspoken question. You immediately straighten, your legs shaky with burning want as you follow him into his bedroom.
Namjoon closes the bedroom door behind him.
His bedroom is dark – he flicks on his reading lamp and the room is elapsed in a dim, earthy glow. Your eyes tick over his room – landing on the haphazard piles of books and fresh laundry, you inhale the scent of him that lingers in the air.
You turn and you gaze at him. Namjoon, who is stripping off his pyjama pants, standing there in black boxers that cling to his hard cock. Your throat is dry, your head hammering with thoughts that are incoherent and dirty and painted a deep crimson red.
Namjoon is staring at you with an expression on his face that has your heart jackhammering in your chest, his eyes lidded and full of lust and admiration and pure, unadulterated want.
He steps towards you and your lips meet his in a desperate, hungry kiss.
You fall onto his bed, entwined tightly. As your back lands on his soft mattress, Namjoon hovers above you, careful not to crush you with his weight, but enough for you to feel the presence of his body on top of yours.
“Namjoon,” You groan out your name and it sounds like you are begging, you squeeze your eyes shut and fragmented colours burst beneath your lids. You press your thighs together and heat licks at your core before you open your eyes.
“I want you.” The words ease out of your lips and curl around your tongue. Namjoon’s eyes widen and he swallows, he stares at you – a disarming gaze that makes you feel warm and prickly, he breathes in hard as if you are the most gorgeous thing in the world and he needs a moment to gather himself.
Your hand reaches up between your bodies and your hand grazes against hid cock. Namjoon immediately moans, and you can hear arousal in the honeyed strain of his voice.
You pull down clumsily at the black fabric of his underwear, urgent and rushed, and Namjoon takes over, grasping at the waistband of his underwear and tugging down until his bare cock stands up between your bodies, straight and thick.
Your mouth waters and the throb between your legs gets even louder. The pillows are soft beneath your head, your eyes find his and your breath is trapped in your throat as his fingers tug down at your underwear and toss them onto the ground.
Anticipation clenches inside of you as you part your legs, feeling that senseless thud between your legs grow, snowballing and heightening and making your nerves curl at the edges. You are wet, so damn wet that it’s all you can think about, the air is cool against your sensitive slit as your hands link around the back of his neck.
Namjoon catches your eyes, you watch as he bites his lip, reaching up so that his fingers lock firmly around your wrists. He stares at you, he drinks you in – his eyes soften a touch, his stare is intense and affectionate and urgent.
“I am so crazy about you, you know that?” He says simply. Time slows, his fingers tighten around your wrists, his eyes flickers.
“Namjoon…” Your voice trembles and you swallow. “Fuck, please, fuck me.”
He lets out a barely audible sound at your words, something in between a moan and a grunt as he shifts his body until his cock is there, at your entrance.
It feels as if your mind is short circuiting- frazzled bursts of electricity from the feeling of Namjoon’s cock right there at your wet entrance. You can feel the presence of him- teasing you, and you let out a strangled sound.
“Namjoon…” The word falls out of your mouth, akin to a plea. You feel hot all over, your lashes fluttering as you look up at Namjoon through heavy lids and tinged pink cheeks.
“Please baby.”
And just like that, Namjoon slides inside of you.
You let out a choked moan, Namjoon’s eyes flicker down to your face, his eyes dilating and his jaw clenching as he stretches out your walls, pushing inside of you until his entire length is inside.
“You feel so good,” You whimper out breathlessly and Namjoon chases your words with a kiss, sealing his lips on yours and moaning into your mouth in agreement.
You exhale shakily, absorbing the feeling of his full thick length inside of you. You let out a sigh, a moan trickles out of your lips, and then Namjoon begins to rock into you.
He starts slow, thrusting into you at a pace that begins languidly – each thrust leaving behind a raging want. He builds, his pace quickens, he fucks into you harder, stronger, deeper. You angle up into his cock, the only thing you can do when Namjoon has your arms pinned above your head as he fucks you.
“Fuck,” Namjoon mutters, he lets go of where his fingers are tightened around your wrists and his thumb caresses your lower lip. You kiss his thumb and then his fingers, you take one of his long fingers into your mouth and suck it clean.
“Jesus Christ…” Namjoon mutters, his eyes rolling slightly as he thrusts into you a bit harder.
Your hands, now free, roam down the canvas of Namjoon’s shoulders down to his chest. Your touch glides over his ribs, before you settle on his back.
Namjoon has built to an intensity that has your body starting to shake, you shudder in pleasure with each thrust of his cock inside of you.
It’s like Namjoon is reading your mind, he teases you with each push of his cock against your walls – fucking you hard and fast and swift, before he stops just as you feel like you are close.
His fingers grip at your waist and your face and your hair, his mouth kisses you over every inch of your exposed skin. He pushes in his cock slowly and makes sure you feel every ridge of his cock inside of you, leaving you writhing under his body as he teases filthy mewls out of your lips.
You are so wet that you can feel it, slick between your legs, the throb between your legs barely acquiesced, rather, heightening with each of Namjoon’s ministrations.
“Feel good baby?” Namjoon asks, his voice is husky in your ear and all you do is nod fervently, he mouths at your neck and his tongue swirls against your collarbones, his teeth nibble at your earlobe.
Your eyes are watery, your breath coming out in ragged gasps of air. His arm wraps around your waist, his hand cupping your breast as he moves. In one swift movement, he flip your body so that you are lying on your side.
You gasp aloud when Namjoon pulls out of you, your body raw with arousal, as Namjoon moves. His body is soon crooked behind yours, arm is linked around your neck, his palm down your chest and massaging your breasts, his other hand on your hip.
You could feel his fingers digging into you, they are possessive. You can feel the tip of his cock, his entire length slickened wet from you. Then he pushes himself inside of you yet again.
You let out a choked cry at the feeling of him inside of you, you stutter your ass against him.
At this angle, you can feel everything – the warmth of his chest which is broad and strong against your back.
His lips, brushing against your ear and the dip of his voice muttering dirty hushed words as he thrusts into you.
His fingers, digging into the flesh of your thigh and every now and then moving to brush along your ass.
Most of all however, is the angle. The angle of which Namjoon’s hard cock is entering you, the arch of his hips as he slams into you with rhythmic thrusts.
With each slap of his skin against yours, you arched into him, you wanted more, you invited a deeper fuck, you begged for it.
“You feel amazing,” Namjoon moans, “And you sound amazing, every single noise that comes out of you makes me lose my god damn mind…” Namjoon’s voice is overflowing with lust and throaty with want, he accentuates his words with a particularly intense thrust- one that has cries spilling from your throat and a moan spilling from Namjoon’s.
“See, that sound, right there… God,” He mutters, and you moan again, enjoying the praise, your body curling with pleasure as he thrusts into you again.
“Namjoon, I’m so close …” You whimper out his name and you could feel it in the stutter of his hips, the drawn out swear words that he mutters, the rumble of his chest… that he is as close as you are.
His hand - which is wrapped around your hip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised to see a faint bruise there when he’s done – clutches your thigh.
He lifts your leg, supporting it in his hand as he effectively spreads out your pussy lips. He pushes into you and the new angle and deepness has you you suppressing a wail. You find yourself trying to stifle it, the loudness, the urgency as Namjoon’s fingers grip harder around your thigh and his thrusts pick up pace.
He swells his hips upward as he finishes each thrust with a grind of his length right there in that spot, thespot. You feel like you are teetering off of the edge, full of white hot pleasure. Your entire body is coiled and tense and you let out a sound that is almost like a scream, it rips out of you between pressed lips.
“Be as loud for me as you want, baby.” He groans against your ear. “You sound so good…” He shifts his hips just a fraction and you felt your breath suck in. His voice is deep and scratchy and you can feel his breath on your neck, the sweat on his body against yours. You quiver at the feeling of it, his hand still laced firmly around your leg, him pumping himself into you.
Your pussy feels so full of him and just when you think you aren’t going to be able to handle any more, his hand works down from where it was wrapped around your breast to meet your sore clit.
He presses two fingertips hard against your clit, enough to make you gasp.
The sensation is sharp and intense and while he keeps pumping into you, harder, faster, deeper, so full and intense and amazing as he continues to hit your spot…his touch on your clit is slow and deliberate.
Your breath comes out of you in shuddering gasps, your body is clutched in Namjoon’s hands. You are wrapped up entirely in the feeling of him.
Namjoon pulls his fingers out of your clit and his hand rests carefully your chest, his fingers wrap lightly around the base of your neck. The weight of his touch right there, his fingers along your pulsepoint, has your body stiffening.
A dark, heavy spill of lust courses through you. You hear Namjoon moaning, soft barely there hums of want. You are pliant in his touch, writhing under him, as your body clenches.
You gasp out. Namjoon, attuned to your every whimper, picks up the pace. He adjusts his hips, slamming into you. You can’t focus on anything but the feeling of him, your teeth catching on your kiss swollen lips, your body stiff and desperate as you hear Namjoon’s voice in your ear, he is moaning, calling you baby, his baby, voice thickened and deep and dark.
It crescends over you. Waves of pleasure and relief so intense that your thighs clench and you cling onto Namjoon’s arms for support. He immediately presses his lips against your neck and murmurs into your skin.
Everything goes silent, goes numb, it fades as all you can focus on is the prickling bliss that is taking over your body.
It’s almost intolerable how good it feels, your back arches and you feel electric waves of pleasure everywhere. You are moaning, you are only faintly aware of the obscene sounds from your lips.
You can tell by the clutch of Namjoon’s hands around your waist that your erotic sounds of pleasure are turning him on more. But all you can focus on with a laser-sharp focus is this.
The orgasm, the high, the release that has you hot and cold, dizzy and focused, a delicious and intense release that leaves in its wake nothing but bliss and the chanting of Namjoon’s name.
Your orgasm begins to slow, beads of pleasure dripping down your skin. You are still tight with pleasure as you feel Namjoon’s thrusts start to grow uneven.
He grips at you and lets out a wanton moan of his own. You crane your head, pulling away from him so that your ass is pressed harder against his cock.
He moans as you tilt your head and your eyes meet his. His hair is pushed off his forehead, his eyes dilated in lust, his lips full and glossy. The sight is like no other and as his eyes meet yours, he climaxes- his face rippling in pleasure as the tiny pinch of his brows dissipates, his lips parted as the sounds of his orgasm fill the space between you.
Namjoon folds, crooking over your body, and he holds you to his chest. You are both fucked out of your minds. A buzzy thrill has knotted in your throat, you can almost hear slowing pulse of your heart, completely tangled up in the fuzzy warmth that has enveloped your body.
Namjoon holds you even closer to him and lets out an outdrawn sigh of pleasure. You shiver at the sound of it, a smile flits across your face as he carefully pulls out of you.
You both let out a small gasp- you are full of his cum, full to the God damn brim.
“That was…” Namjoon murmurs, his voice trails off and he ends his sentence by pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade.
For a moment the only sound is the synchronized hum of your heavy breaths.
They slow, evening out like creases being pressed out of a linen shirt. You lift your head and roll over onto your side, your cheek pressed tightly against his pillow.
Namjoon has his eyes closed, lying flat on his back. He has the barest hint of a smile on his lips and you swallow hard. That same swell of something unfamiliar, thick with sweetness rises in your chest.
Namjoon’s face is utterly serene, and the only indication that is mind is going a thousand miles per minute is the flicker of his eyes beneath closed lids. You smile, gazing at him – at the faintest smattering of freckles over his nose, pecks of affection from the sun from the summer heat. At the two small indentations on the bridge of his nose from his glasses.
He senses your stare, his eyes open and he cranes his head. He smiles at you – a smile that has his eyes creasing in the corners, two dimples peeking out in his cheeks.
He reaches out and brushes your cheekbone with two crooked fingers.
You have so many things that you want to say. It feels surreal to be here – lying in his bed, your bodies close but not touching, to see the slope of his bare skin and his hair falling in his eyes.
You had never expected to be here – not just in his bed naked, but here with him, the most exposed and vulnerable you had ever been with anyone.
You think back to how you had felt in the past.
Lying opposite a body that was always just a body, your chest starting to ache in a funny way that you always squashed down, the inklings of doubt and self-hate seeping in before you dragged yourself upwards, scooped your hair up into a bun, and began to search for your clothes. That lump in your throat as you searched for your discarded underwear on all fours, whispering to yourself that everything was fine.
There had been so many shitty nights, so many mediocre nights, so many good nights even – all nights knotted together with you feeling like a stranger in somebody else’s presence, and the uncomfortable itch to get up and return to a comfortable space.
That space had always been your bed, in your home, you lying on your back staring at the ceiling with that funny lump in your throat.
But not anymore. Now, this, here, it felt comfortable. And you don’t have any whispers of wanting to leave, no ache tugging in your chest.
You are lying there trying to figure out how exactly to put all of that into words when Namjoon clears his throat a little, cards fingers through his hair and tugs at the ends.
“How do you feel?” His eyes are on you, scanning you.
“Amazing.”
“Same.” He grins, and you laugh. He laughs too. The two of you just laugh, bodies so close. And it’s not like you’re laughing over anything in particular, you’re just happy.
“What time is it?” He sighs, his hand sneaks around your waist and he pulls you into his arms. You nestle against his shoulder, he presses a kiss absently to the top of your head.
“Dunno,” You mumble, “Late. 3am, I reckon.”
“This time of the night is so weird. Like… it’s that time when it’s not quite night but not quite day. If turning points were set at a time, they would be 3am. It feels significant somehow, right?” Namjoon says absently.
You let out a soft laugh.
“That’s so deep.”
“Well it is 3am after all. If there’s any time to get deep it’s now, right?”
Namjoon smiles wryly at you, and you hesitate.
“Be honest.” You begin. You begin to form the thought that had been dwelling on your mind for months into words.
“Why did you talk to me at the party all those months ago? Did you know what people said about me? Did you just want sex?”
Namjoon stares at you.
“Be honest, I can take it, really.” You stammer out.
“I wanted you but I didn’t just want you for one thing. Or for just sex… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I just wanted to get to know you. I hadn’t met someone like you before.”
“Really?” You say softly.
“Really. And… I hadn’t heard any of whatever people were saying about you before that first night.” He sighs. “But I’ll be honest. After I met you, I mentioned it to Jin. And he told me some of the stuff he’d heard.”
“Oh.” Your voice quietens. “You didn’t… care?”
“I didn’t care,” Namjoon continued. “And I’m being 100% honest with you when I say that. There’s nothing wrong with being different to what college assholes or even I dunno, society I guess, expects. Plus, everyone has their own shit going on, you know? I’m not going to judge someone or write them off before I get to know them. And I don’t know… I had this feeling about you that I couldn’t shake.”
You hum softly. “Yeah. I just…” You let out a sigh and shrug, your shoulders dropping up and down heavily. “I feel… I felt… like a bit of a fuck up, you know? I like sex, I always have, and having sex makes me feel really good. At least it used to. Then I don’t know. It was like the more I was open about wanting it the more I got shit hung on me. And I know I shouldn’t care about what people say. But being told that something that makes you who you are is wrong or bad or fucked… it’s a really awful feeling.” Your voice cracks a little. “I don’t know who I am half the time and I want to know who I am, but I’m scared of finding out too. It feels like every time I’ve tried to be myself in the past it backfires in my face. I don’t know, I want to be strong and independent but it’s really fucking hard and sometimes I really, really don’t like myself.”
Your voice cracks a little. “Sorry,” You mumble. Your voice is hoarse. “Sorry. That probably makes no sense I’m-”
“Hey,” Namjoon says. “Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize for feeling a way, alright?” His voice is fierce and he lets out a soft sound, something akin to a sigh.
“I care about you so much,” His voice lowers, thickens. “You’re so special, you know that? You deserve the world.” You crane your neck to look at him, he gives you a smile, a flicker in his eyes, a hint of dimples in his cheeks before his face sobers. “You - you make me really fucking happy. And that’s not from you trying to be anything or do anything it’s just… you. You make me happy. Just you being you, okay? What you feel, what you think, what you are… All of you. You. Your past, who you are today, who you will be tomorrow… you make me happy. Really happy. That’s what I’m trying to say.” He sighs and then pulls you back into his arms and presses a kiss into your hair, he mumbles something you can’t quite hear.
“Namjoon…” Your ovoice is tiny. “I…” You swallow and you clutch onto him a little bit tighter. You have so many words swirling in your head and you can’t pick one out clearly. You wish so badly that you could.
“I wish we met earlier.” You say instead.
“Mmhm. Me too.” Namjoon murmurs into your hair, his fingers tracing circles in between your shoulders.
“Maybe though… we met at exactly the right time.” He says softly.
Your body is relaxed, and you listen as Namjoon’s breathing slows.
His chest rises and falls with each breath, his arms tucking you into his chest. He lets out a soft snore – you stifle a giggle under your breath – and he mumbles in his sleep, absently tugging you in even closer to his body.
You stare into the darkness of his bedroom. It is unfamiliar, the feeling that is unfurling in your chest.
It’s a warmth and a hope and a happiness that didn’t have strings attached or conditions applied, it is just there.
You are beginning to drift off, your mind slowly carding through all the things Namjoon had said to you. The expression in his eyes that is always so fond, so affectionate, so warm.
It will go away surely, you tell yourself, trying to settle the swell in your chest, the tremble in your fingertips. This is just the honeymoon phase, this is just the post sex glow, it won’t last. I’m right in this. I know I am.
You lace your fingers with Namjoon’s and as your eyes close, you find yourself hoping against all belief that you are wrong.
You wait for things to get worse, you wait for it to pass.
But it doesn’t.
The feeling keeps coming to you in small snippets as you spend more and more time with the tall boy who looked down when he laughed.
There was the first time you were walking across campus together and you said something in an offhand way and Namjoon laughed and reached across, casually grabbing your hand.
You had paused, eyes darting around and wondering if there was anyone around you. Your eyes had flickered back to Namjoon to see him chattering rapidly with the unparalleled enthusiasm that was Namjoon’s signature, strolling along with your hand in his like it didn’t belong anywhere else.
You stopped looking around when he held your hand after that, or when he didn’t. You stopped looking around and looked ahead. You found yourself relaxing, and you realized that you had stopped caring so much about what people around you thought.
There was the time you and Namjoon had been studying for an upcoming exam, standing in line at a coffee shop and waiting for your coffees to come out. Namjoon was frowning at his phone and complaining about his smashed screen. He was doing what he always did when he ranted (which in itself was pretty rare because he was usually so relaxed and easygoing) – his voice pitched upwards and got faster and faster until it ended with him hanging his head and laughing at himself. You had your arms looped around his waist and your chin on his shoulder, listening to him sympathetically. The barista had called out his name for the coffees and passed yours to him as well with a, ‘Here’s your girlfriend’s coffee.’
When Namjoon returned to you, still muttering about ‘Apple and their bloody glass screens it’s a fucking conspiracy and I refuse to give them any more money!’ you had accepted the coffee in your hands. You were quiet, he picked up on it as you walked out of the coffee shop.
“You okay?”
“He called me your girlfriend. The coffee guy, that is.” You answered.
“Oh,” Namjoon said, he blinked a few times. He hummed thoughtfully, taking a sip from his coffee. “I guess he did. I didn’t even notice.” He seemed unfazed, his eyes flicked up to meet yours. They were calm, still, but you saw the tiniest of questions in his eyes.
“Uh huh.” You replied. You reached over and nodded at his phone. “So. Are you going to get this repaired? Because all that broken glass is a hazard for you, Joon.”
Namjoon smiled at you, the slightest flush on his cheeks before he nodded, talking enthusiastically, something about ‘In theory I am against Apple but their products are just so pretty…’ and you took a sip of your coffee and tasted hazelnuts on your tongue, and from that moment on you referred to Namjoon as your boyfriend and he referred to you as his girlfriend and things had shifted seamlessly and naturally, as if nothing had ever really changed at all.
That being said – it wasn’t as if your relationship with Namjoon was perfect because the more time you spent with him, you realized he was flawed.
Definitely flawed. He could be stubborn, annoyingly so, and he was also sometimes frustratingly obtuse.
You and Namjoon had arguments, two two of you fired up and irritated, you shooting daggers at him with arms crossed and eyes narrowed, Namjoon letting out long sighs and shaking his head. Your hisses of ‘you are a real patronizing asshole Kim Namjoon’ and Namjoon just responding by letting out one of those sighs. Those sighs just adding to your annoyance tenfold because you were irritated and you wanted to fight and the one time Namjoon wasn’t being a chatterbox was now, God damn it.
Your arguments were always diffused though, Namjoon reaching out and saying something unrelated that somehow had all of your anger simmering down to a still, waiting until hours later when a soft ‘I’m sorry’ was whispered into your ear. You too, found yourself stopping and thinking, trying, being the one to loop your arms around his waist and apologize, to swallow your pride, Namjoon wrapping his arms around your waist and mumbling ‘S’all good.”
You had always thought arguments and fights made couples hate each other, that they inevitably filled both people up with resentment but with Namjoon it was the opposite - it felt like the more time that you spent together whether it was good or bad, and that with each ridiculous argument and each serious fight, the more fucking fond you got.
There were the times when the sex just wasn’t mindblowing – late nights when you were tired and not feeling it, your chest tight and uncertain. Namjoon read into that almost immediately each time, and he always stopped, his body stilling, his intent shifting as he held you close to him instead and planted kisses on your cheeks, or made an excuse and gave you space.
He knew exactly what you wanted most of the time- even when what you wanted right then in that moment wasn’t him, but yourself.
And then there was the good sex. Nights with nails digging into skin, Namjoon’s voice possessive and low and throaty in your ear, him mouthing at your thighs and your neck.
There was the night you and Namjoon referred to as That Night.
The Night was when you had been teetering on the verge of illness, a scratch in your throat that persisted and wouldn’t leave. Namjoon had visited your place, a beanie pulled low over his hair and glasses perched on his nose, an infectious smile spreading over his face when you opened the door for him wrapped up in blankets.
He had made you a cup of tea with a nose wrinkled in concentration (You had watched as he laid a palm absently on the kettle only to rip it away with a muffled yelp of pain, wincing and whirling around only to knock your looseleaf tea tin on the ground. It was so utterly Namjoon and for some reason the sight of the boy with the beanie and fluffy hair bent down scooping tea into his palm had something warm and soft spreading through your whole body.)
He was sitting opposite you, you were watching a movie, you were taking careful sips of your tea. He had one palm resting on your shins, he was drumming a pattern into them every now and then. It was nothing special, you weren’t doing anything particular, until you glanced up to see him staring at you intently.
“What?” You had laughed, reaching out to slap his arm, and Namjoon just smiled, shrugging.
“Nothing,” He said, but it didn’t sound like a ‘nothing’, it sounded like a, ‘Everything’, and even though you were sitting on your couch in a ratty hoodie with no make up and your hair dragged up in a bun, you had never felt more beautiful.
You were sick and you protested feebly as he kissed you, claiming he didn’t care about getting sick because it was worth it, and you had the best sex of your life on the couch- you on your stomach and him on top of you, his hands supporting you as he fucked into you long and hard and deep until you came around his cock, and then again when he sat up and you sat on his cock and rode him until you were screaming from the orgasm that clenched around every single cell in your body.
(He got sick afterwards and the two of you were wrapped up in blankets on separate sides of the couch, quietly tapping away on your own laptops, your feet propped up on his lap, his hand resting thoughtlessly on your calf as you browsed Youtube and he browsed Reddit.)
Months passed, and the excitement and exhilaration of Namjoon slowly started to fade – just like you had been so originally terrified of. But in it’s place, something stronger pulled out from underneath. Something better. Something more tangible, something that lay within the glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t noticing, something in the long conversations you and Namjoon had, something fused in those few seconds when you were both annoyed and angry and you both just stopped, you stepped towards one another with softening frayed edges and apologies.
It was funny that you could recognize something when it was so new to you. It was funny that your body knew it before you did. And it was funny that it came to you simply and suddenly, without a lot of fuss, it just popped in your head one day when you were sitting with Namjoon and your slowly growing circle of friends.
Namjoon was eating a piece of pizza (with pineapples on it, the nerve!) and his cheeks were bulging with pizza and he was talking with a full mouth (arguing with his classmate Min Yoongi about which Marukami novel was the best, Namjoon passionately defending Norwegian Wood, Yoongi disdainfully saying ‘IQ84’ and Seokjin side eyeing them both and saying loudly ‘Marukami is overrated you dumb fucks and this conversation is boring as hell’). It was any other day really and Namjoon had pizza crumbs on his face and a pizza crust in his hands and it hit you like a lightning bolt right then and there that you were completely head over heels in love with Namjoon.
After that it felt like a floodgate had been unleashed- you had I love you on the tip of your tongue after everything. Namjoon asked you to read over his philosophy essay? Sure, I love you. Namjoon went down on you for an hour straight? I am so freaking in love with you. Namjoon asked if you wanted to catch a movie with him after class? Yes and I love you.
It wasn’t dramatic, it wasn’t sudden, or overwhelming – it just was there, like it always had been, like it always would be.
It is the end of semester and that means one thing – party. It is one of your college cohort’s signature parties that everyone buzzed about for the weeks leading up to it, knowing it would be a messy night. An empty house with parents gone for the weekend, a raided liquour cabinet, cigarette butts discarded in neatly clipped green grass, couplets of people exchanging messy kisses and rushing into closets and laundry rooms and bathrooms.
You and Namjoon are at the party together, his arm draped around your shoulders as you stand in a small huddle with your friends.
You are an eclectic bunch- Namjoon, his housemate Seokjin, friendly and boisterous Jung Hoseok who you had befriended in an Economics class, Min Yoongi (their evolving friendship had gone something as follows: Week one of philosophy class, and Namjoon was ranting about ‘this annoying guy who doesn’t ever speak. Plus, he likes Nietzsche’, and then in week three, ‘the new guy is alright actually. I guess.’ to them now, constantly bickering like an old married couple), Yoongi’s girlfriend who was the only person on Earth who made Yoongi beam, she was sharp and quick and so much fun, and two girls who you had met in this semester’s design class, they were sweet and friendly and it had been hard at first to open up to them and to try, but you were so happy you did.
As the night ticks on, you realize this is the most fun you had ever had at a party – beer in hand and buzzing in your veins, sitting around on couches in a circle with a group of friends, As you lean your head affectionately on Namjoon’s shoulder it hits you that you are actually kind of happy just doing this, just being here, and that a hell of a lot has changed in less than a year.
You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, picking you way neatly through the crowd of college students.
When you are finished, you wash your hands, catching sight of your reflection. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair a little messy, a smile on your face. You look happy, you like it – and you smile at your reflection before you wipe your hands on your jeans and leave the bathroom.
You almost collide into somebody on your way out, you jerk backwards. The guy you bumped into straightens, his eyes widening in recognition before his lips settle into a smirk.
“Hey Y/N.” It’s Kim Taehyung, eyebrows raised as he leans against the wall.
“How are you?”
You smile tersely. “Yeah just fine thanks.”
Taehyung’s grin widens. He nods to the bathroom. “Wanna join me in there?”
Your nose wrinkles delicately.
“No, I don’t.”
“You sure?” Taehyung grins at you and you feel that twist in your stomach. “Maybe I can change your mind.” He takes a step towards you and something in your chest flares.
“Does it make you feel good or something, talking to me like?” You said finally, steadily. “Because you know, it makes me feel pretty shitty. I’m guessing you don’t talk to your friends like that so what makes you think you can talk to me like that?”
Taehyung looks shell shocked for a second. You suppose he was expecting something else from you – a withering response, a roll of the eyes, fire fought with fire. Or a different reaction, you, face and self confidence crumpling.
His face falters, and you see a flash of what looks like doubt and guilt paint his features.
You don’t wait to see what he is going to say next. Instead, you turn and walk down the stairs. You are trembling, you make your way downstairs and walk straight to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.
Once the glass is full, you sip at it slowly. The tightness in your chest slowly dissolves, you set the glass down, it sits on the counter– it is still half full – and you leave it behind.
You make your way back through the crowd, spotting your friends. The group had started to split off, Yoongi and his girlfriend long gone, Hoseok sitting on the floor nearby against a wall, eyes closed as he bobs his head drunkenly to the music, Seokjin and the other girls drunkenly taking selfies.
You slip by Namjoon’s side, his arms wind around your waist and he rested his chin on your head.
“It’s nearly 3am,” You murmur softly. “Turning point time.” You add lightly, Namjoon chuckles softly and gives you a small squeeze, you lean into his touch.
“You wanna head off?” He whisper. You nodded, he laces his fingers through yours.
“Absolutely.”
You and Namjoon walk slowly down the street. You are talking softly, it’s too late to talk at a full volume, so you communicate in hushed words and pieces of conversation. Namjoon is contemplative tonight- you can see it in the slight furrow of his brow and the set of his lips as he walks.
As you turn the corner and enter your street, right by your house, you laugh.
“Déjà vu,” You say lightly, turning to meet Namjoon’s gaze.
He smiles at you and nods. “Tell me about it.”
You walk up to your neighbour’s brick wall, Namjoon follows you, watching you as you hop up so that you are sitting on it, your legs swinging lazily.
“Best wall in the world,” He says seriously, “Great Wall of China ain’t got a thing on this wall.”
You giggle. “Thank you wall.” You say lightly and Namjoon nods.
“Thank you wall.” He directs his words to the wall and you tilt your head back and laugh.
Namjoon walks up to you, in between your legs. You can see the moonlight dancing off of his face, the way his hair falls in his eyes before he shakes his head, the smile on his lips.
It is like déjà vu- you can still remember it faintly, about a year ago. You sitting on this exact brick wall with a guard up and a defiant flash in your eyes, and this same man between your legs, staring up at you with a calm, confident gaze that was disarming and exciting and new and everything, all at once.
The look in his eyes is different tonight, it’s softer, sweeter… and you suppose that the look in your eyes is different tonight too.
He leans in, closing the space between the two of you with a kiss.
His fingers brush at a tendril of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. He cups your face tenderly, his head tilts slightly to one side as he stares at you.
You feel everything inside of you crumble away. Everything is amplified at this time of the night- most of all, this feeling.
“I love you.” Namjoon says.
He says the words slowly. Unwaveringly. He pronounces each word carefully. He blinks when the words are out, three rapid blinks, accompanied with the tiniest caress of his thumb against your cheek.
Your heart swells even more in your chest and you smile. You reach out, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs running over those dimples.
He smiled back, dimples flashing, eyes warm and as sweet as honeycomb.
“I love you too.”
amynote: I loved writing this series so much. I’m a bit sad that this is the end… but I am really looking forward to writing all my knj wips! thank you for reading Passionfruit, I am sending you all a lil forehead kiss♡
Creative Content Contributor:@baebae-goodnight (her mood boards are amazing - like all the damn time)
Rating: M - explicit sex, cursing, drinking
Word Count: 6k
Summary: Married by obligation, weighed down by circumstance. Except for those nights when you’re both drunk, falling into bed with one another and realizing you’re human. Occasionally this happens, occasionally you fuck. Until your life changes and you realize Namjoon, the very man you’re obligated to, might just be the very man that you crave.
☝this right here, is the story why i am here in tumblr. I stumbled upon Fal in WP but i always have a feeling that there’s more content from her (and eventually Shanna, too)…
i love this story so much!!! 6K words that tells you the story of 2 complete strangers, who made a conscious decision to choose each other inspite being force to a marriage. the whole story is so emotional for me coz its shows me how they feel, what goes on into their head… from both their POVs. i don’t have the proper words to describe how this story affects me. in just 6K i felt such longing, want, jealousy, frustration, love & desire to be there for someone. the story is so direct & straight forward that sometime it left me dizzy but at the same time i truly i understand how the 2 characters feel.
its impact is so great that after more than a year of being Fal’s follower, this story has become a sort of comfort story for me - the one i read after a bad day & im finally in my bed. the kind of story that i go to when i dont want to start a new story but would still like to read something.
↳ All credits go to @kim-seok-jin for the banner and dividers! Thank you to @lvnatrgraphics for helping her with it!
Though Alice ‘Y/N’ Liddell is overshadowed, and she doesn’t seem to think much of it, she yearns for a world which notices her- gives her a chance- a part of her wanting for a turn to be on the pedestal. But of course, nothing can change that-
Or can it?
One chance encounter with a boy with bunny ears and a strange hole, and she arrives at the world of Wonderland- a world of magic, mystery and madness.
What more when everyone seems determined to capture her heart?
➠ Genres: Fluff, angst, mystery, fantasy, isekai (going to another world), alice in wonderland!au
➠ Rating: PG-15
➠ Triggers Ahead: Hints of creepy/obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, reader’s manhandled, stolen kiss (?), violence and weapons, physical fights, suggestive dialogues, confusion, madness
↳ A/N: Since the post is a little too big to be reblogged on mobile Tumblr, consider doing it through your internet browser instead. Feel free to send us your feedback through submissions, or an ask about the story in general. We hope you enjoy! ↲
“Warning!In entering this game, be warned, dear player. You are an outside force, imposing your will on this world. You may have great power, but this power only comes once. Use it as you wish- whether you wish to control the story, or let it consume you. You may choose to leave the story, the world, without an end, or you may also stay, and search for the true end.
Here, it is your choice that matters. If you believe in this world, they will exist in your head. It will be up to you to direct the story however you want- because, in the end, if there was no Alice, then there would be no Wonderland. Wonderland comes into existence because of the person named Alice- and so this story will be if you choose to exist in it.”
You find your attention focused on the cup before you, a thread of hesitation running through you at the sound of your older sister’s voice. Lorina seems as beautiful as ever, really. The sunlight luminates her features, giving her an ethereal glow.
Fingers pin back the stray hair behind your ear, and you idly wonder how much you pale in comparison. Ah well. At least, in this moment, seated at the tea party, that your family is best known for… even if no one is there to witness it but you both, no fault can be found in your manners, an unachievable hunger for perfection having long been instilled in you.
After all, that is the expectations set on you as a daughter of the Liddell family. Or rather, not just from your family, but also from the noble society. Intelligent, beautiful, refined. To always be a lady in every way.
Still, no matter how well you hold yourself, you muse as you take a sip of your tea, it’s not like it will ever matter. It’s quite simple if you think about it- when everyone’s eyes are already turned to someone else, there won’t be any left to glance your way.
Which is fine, really. No one might acknowledge your success, but your failures go unseen as well. To anyone else, those words might seem bitter or jealous, but you know yourself that you say it with relief. You do not ever want to be in Lorina’s position, where everybody pays attention to her every move.
You don’t, you think to yourself. You really don’t.
“… -ice? Dear? Alice?”
You snap back to attention at her voice. Gently setting down the cup in your hands, you finally address the elephant in the room with a deep breath, unable to bear it anymore.
“Lorina, dear sister-” you pause, trying to find the right way to say it without hurting her feelings. “I’ve missed you terribly,” you start. “To be able to see you again in person is a pleasure, but- I worry about your health, coming to see me when you must have pressing matters to attend to.”
Lorina’s face brightens in that moment, to your surprise. “Alice, dear, for an important matter such as this, I simply could not wait to tell you- other matters can wait,” she beams, clasping her hands together.
“An important matter…?” You echo, confused. You’d received no prior notices or any hints as to what your sister is talking about. Your brows furrow, a puzzled frown lacing your expression. At your reaction, she only seems to smile even more, excitement showing.
“Yes, you see- my engagement with Malchin has been approved by mother and father!”
Ah.
Malchin. Lorina’s suitor of four years. A name you hoped you wouldn’t hear for the rest of your life. You exhale discreetly, trying to keep up a pretense of happiness, if only for Lorina’s sake.
“Really?” You smile at her. “Congratulations, Lorina!”
She giggles, and in the setting of the golden afternoon sun, Lorina glows. Happiness suits your sister, or rather, it always has. “There was nothing more that we wanted than to bring you the news in person. As my sister, you know how much he cares for you! He was just as excited to tell you this as I was- oh, we came straight here without notice… I’m sorry, Alice dear,” she suddenly murmurs, brows furrowing. You can’t help but frown as you hear her words, especially at the mention of him.
Even so, Lorina’s guilty face prompts you to answer her, so you keep the smile plastered on your face. “It’s alright. Why would I ever refuse a visit from my beloved older sister? … and from my ever so wonderful future brother-in-law,” you add hastily, in case she notices.
“What a relief then, for there’s nothing more I’ve wanted since our last meeting, than to see you again,” another voice joins the conversation- and your grip on the cup tightens, the necklace around your neck sitting colder than ever before.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Soft, caramel eyes that twinkle, a chiselled face, white-blond locks and sharp yet features that soften as he smiles, a being you’d only be able to picture in the novels you read, Malchin, the subject of your conversation, joins your tea party.
Foreign, a history shrouded in mystery, and yet impossibly skilled with diplomacy, Malchin is the picture perfect fiance for a daughter of your house. Yet even so, you find him to be someone you want nothing to do with. If you were to speak honestly, his words were seeping poison and his presence a headache.
Sometimes, you ponder over what made Lorina like him so much- but in the end, you aren’t in a position to do anything about it. After all, that has long been a tradition of your house. A Liddell journeys on her own to choose a suitor of her liking.
And Lorina, for some reason you will never understand, has chosen Malchin.
Looking up, you see his lips set in a smile as he faces you. And as always- the moment that your eyes meet, Malchin pauses, before his eyes turn too piercing, a trace of unexplained deep fondness becoming visible. Of course, he’s always been rather…affectionate towards you, and even if you found it uncomfortable in the past, nothing comes close to the tension you can feel it building up to right now.
You immediately avert your gaze when his lingers for too long to be considered appropriate, heart beating fast. Taking your cue as what it is, he starts walking- to Lorina, you hope, not wanting to be near him in any way.
When he’s about to pass by you, you tense, your focus entirely on your plate, there’s nowhere else you’d rather look-
You shudder as you feel the brush of his hand tuck away a loose strand of your hair, before his voice resounds.
“You look stunning, as always, dear Alice,” his voice is near shy of a purr, and you wrack your brains for a suitable response, your hackles raised. His next sentence comes out lower, and if you were sitting anywhere else, you might not have heard it. As it is, you have the front seat for his theatrical acts.
“Any man, if he were to see you, would fall in love immediately.”
“T-Thank you for the compliment,” your words come out stilted, and you almost stutter. What he means by it, you don’t want to contemplate too deeply into it. You should look at him as you respond, but- no. “A roundabout way to tell of how Lorina’s beauty captivated you deeply?” You redirect his words to your sister immediately with a false giggle. “After all, I’ve been told I am the picture perfect copy of Lorina. Really… you are as charming as always, Malchin.”
Guessing by his expression, he’s caught off-guard, if only for a second. Lorina’s shy giggle rings in your ears. His pupils dilate before he bursts into a sweet smile too, one that could never make someone paint him as the demon he is under that mask of his.
“Of course Lorina is very beautiful, and so are you, dear Alice,” he chuckles, laugh airy and soft and oh-so-toxic it makes you want to run, red sirens going off in your head. “If a man sees two flowers growing ever so beautifully, is it not his duty to state what they are? And if he likes one so much, enough to want it for himself…”
The feel of a hand subtly gliding through your hair makes you squirm- just a little, you’ve been trained not to show discomfort- and you keep the tight smile on your face, though it strains the longer he stays near you.
It seems mercy has finally come upon you though, as Malchin finally strides over to Lorina, slowly as if he seems reluctant, seating himself beside her- though not without fleeting overly fond looks your way as well. You try not to meet his gaze as often as you can, though you can’t imagine just how or why Lorina can stand this. She can see it, can’t she? It’s frustrating, truly frustrating and as Lorina chimes happily with a, “Alice, dear, more snacks?”-
You find yourself looking at her and trying to ignore the person on the side. It doesn’t help that the table is small, just enough to fit two people, and Malchin’s addition has made it incredibly crowded as he sits beside you. When his knees brush over yours- you almost jump. Your mind tells you to escape, but how?
Not even three minutes and all you want to do is leave.
You send a soft smile (or what you hope is one) to her, thinking over the words in your head, unwilling to stay a moment longer-
“Lorina, love-” the brief, fleeting glance your way snaps you out of your trance when ‘love’ rings in your ears, fortunately just in time to hear the next words being spoken, “-we seem to be running out of snacks, shall I call for the maid-?”
“Oh no,” you instantly cut in with an apologetic smile that you hope is believable. “I had the maids leave the garden for today, to give us privacy,” you sigh, looking at Lorina under your lashes as if to imitate the sorry but well-meaning child. Before Malchin or Lorina can speak further, you continue forward.
“Never worry though! Calling for a maid in the mansion is not too much- and besides, I believe you two have some words to speak to each other that I should not be hearing,” you giggle, playing the part of a mischievous, adoring younger sister this time. You see Lorina blush, and Malchin looks at you with amusement. The way his lips tilt in fondness and want, behind the facade makes you all the more relieved you are leaving.
“If it’s not too much,” he softly repeats, a cup raised to his lips, before you see something dart out- and you look away before you have to see more than his tongue pressed over his lips.
You quickly flee away.
If there is anything that gives you comfort right now, it’s the sight of familiar bushes, of familiar roses and hedges that make up the maze in the garden you are in. It’s no secret that the Liddells- your family- are people who indulge in beauty and luxury; the gardens that encircle the lands your family owns only attests to that.
Another thing that reminds you awfully a lot of your high status in society other than the large gardens and your last name is the chain of silver hanging down your neck. It comes down to a tear-shaped red tourmaline, and you faintly remember sitting under a certain tree, thinking of how it looks to be a real tear made of blood. Or perhaps a raindrop, you think idly. All that you know is that it’s a very special heirloom. Sometimes, it still baffles you- why your esteemed mother and father would give it to you, rather than Lorina. After all, it’s apparent that she’s the better child in their eyes.
Still, talking of gardens, this one in particular has been, and always will be, your favorite.
When you round a corner, you smile softly as you reach your destination- the clearing that lies in the very center of the maze. Inside, you see the huge tree that has been a familiar face since you were but a child, the croquet holes that are scattered around, the grass that tickles your legs as you pull up your skirt- the feel of the breeze…
… the… body lying down near the… tree…?
You pause in your steps, confused. Is that a new servant of the manor? It’s the only possible explanation for the unknown person to be sleeping in the garden that you’ve explicitly told them not to sully. You try to keep your temper in check as you stride over to the- boy? No, man- in quick steps, disregarding the danger-
You stop, for the second time, in surprise.
Having crossed the distance between him and you, the image of this sleeping man is now much clearer. Details previously blurred are now all too easy to see. What you thought was a mismatched uniform seems to be something else entirely, his whole outfit something you’ve never seen before. A red coat with an off-white shirt, paired with his white pants makes for an overly bright attire, though the black bow with white speckles does make it more coherent.
But as you look up, you retract all your other thoughts.
It’s the pair of bunny-like ears on his head, huge and brown and floppy that are mismatched with everything you know. How- why? What?
If that’s not enough, as the man shifts in his sleep, the ears twitch, and you let out a small gasp, your curiosity taking over the fear that should have been your first response. Instead of wanting to run away- you find yourself intrigued. Who exactly, or rather- what exactly is this man and why is he sleeping in your garden?
If you’d known what would happen later on, you would have scolded yourself, curiosity be damned. It has always been your one crippling weakness since when you were a child.
But in this moment you crouch, coming closer, tempted to touch his ears and see if they’re real. The man murmurs something in his sleep though, and you find your gaze attracted to his face instead- and you fall even more silent, if that’s possible.
Beautiful.
Where his ears drew your attention before, his face certainly seems to take your breath away just as much. You’ve never seen someone as handsome as him- how do you describe the angel in front of you? Long lashes, the cutest nose, soft pink lips. Now you’re more than sure he isn’t someone from the staff- how could someone with his face work as a mere servant?
Peering down to his wrist, you see a purple gem, a garnet, you realize thanks to the academy’s constant pressure on noble women knowing their gemstones, shining under the glass of the wristwatch, even in the shade of the tree. It’s pretty, very pretty, you think with a soft smile. Befitting his awfully formal attire.
The ears twitch again and you turn to watch with fascination as his nose in turn twitches at the same time. Then his ears flop over, and into your hand-
You bite back the squeal building in your throat at how utterly soft his fur is. Unable to help yourself, you let your hands run over his ears. They’re addicting to touch, and it’s only when you hear the man below you make a sound that you halt to a stop, embarrassment coloring your cheeks red.
What in the hell have you been doing?
Observing someone sleeping without their consent- what more to touch them so casually-?
In a single moment yet again, you seem to have renounced everything you learned back at the academy. The mere thought of it makes you shudder and you hastily move to put distance between the two of you, but-
The hand that grabs your wrist in turn makes you squeak in shock.
“… Who…?”
Huge, doe-like eyes that fittingly make him more handsome stare at you and you find yourself unable to say a word, your heart unable to do anything but beat fast as you find yourself in close quarters with quite one of the strangest strangers you’ve encountered yet.
“A… Alice…?”
Then he immediately grins, and you’re broken out of your trance.
“Oh, I knew you’d come!” He beams at you- even his teeth resemble that of bunnies, you dazedly think- before shuffling closer until your noses are only a breath apart. “I only had to wait, and you’d come back one day. I knew you would. I knewit.”
“Let’s go home!”
“I-I beg your pa-!?” Your words are cut off as he suddenly, effortlessly tugs you close, and in a single move, sweeps you off of your feet. With your body cradled in his arms, your feet left dangling in the air, your head tucked to his chest and his arms tightly holding you, you aren’t given even the slightest bit of leeway to break free.
More than that, all the words in your throat die down as you’re suddenly brought close close close, so close to this (infuriatingly) handsome stranger’s face, such that you can clearly see the mischief in his gaze as he looks at you. There’s a touch of glee in there too, but more than that- ecstasy? Hope? Relief? The myriad of emotions he displays on his face confuses you, but then you stop that line of thinking when you feel him start to move.
“Let me down!” You hiss at him, trying- and failing- to move in any way.
“Why would I?” He asks, an innocently curious note in his voice. The rabbit ears that you’d earlier wondered if true proudly flop in the air, folding over and sometimes standing tall. Just like a real rabbit, you can’t help but notice, before his words sink in and you scowl.
“What do you mean, ’why would I’- for one, you’re basically manhandling me, and another, I’m not whoever you think I am! For both of our sakes, let go of me already, you-!” You squeal when you suddenly notice the hole that has- how, how!? You’d remember if there was a hole like that in your garden, let alone beside the tree’s roots!- appeared, huge and gaping. That’s not what makes your heart drop in fright though-
It’s the fact that it’s pitch black, even under the bright sunlight. It’s as if there’s a wall of some sort that prevents light from passing through, making you want to curl up in fear.
“… I guess you don’t remember, but that’s alright. It’s the rules, after all. When we return, you’ll surely remember me then, won’t you, dear Alice?”
And before you can ask him what that means, or even to ask him where he’s taking you-
-he jumps, and your scream is swallowed by the air as both of you fall down the hole.
You don’t know how long you’ve been falling, though internally you’ve counted at least two minutes, it feels as though an hour has passed instead. The only thing that keeps you grounded is the sensation of arms holding you close. Not even your voice echoes out.
In this space, you feel as though you’re weightless, in a void, enough to daze you that-
‘Let’s play a game, Alice!’
You see a flash of blue, of red, of different colors and there is innocent joy in the laughter that follows. Still, it flutters out of your reach like a butterfly…
- your heart aches. The sudden, sharp pain that makes itself known in your chest makes you gasp silently, scrambling for air as your lungs burn-
-and when you open your eyes again, all you can see is blue.
Blue, reaching as far as your eyes can see, white clouds that hang lazily in the air, the sun hidden behind them… the wind, suddenly loud and screeching in your ears. When you speak, you can barely hear yourself, but having experienced the void, this feels like a blessinginstead.
“What happened!?”
You didn’t mean that question for anyone, if anything it is just the expected reaction for someone who fell into the ground, only to realize they’d somehow gotten from under the ground to above the sky.
Still, your insane captor answers your question. “We’re back in Wonderland!”
Wonderland. Immediately do you feel your heart pound hard and fast, the emotions from before making itself known yet again. An hour ago, you never would have heard about it before in your life, so- why, why was it so…
… familiar?
More than that though, as the blue of the sky makes way for a startling amount of green, you’re reminded of your situation at hand.
“We’re still falling!?” You scream, tugging him closer, the pounding in your heart being replaced by fear, sharp and cold. “We’re going to die at this rate!”
The smell of something surprisingly manly, with a mix of flowers makes itself known, and his voice rings in your ears. “Don’t worry! I won’t ever let you get hurt,” he reassures you, hands cradling you even closer, tucking you into his arms enough that your head is now pressed under his head, your nose brushing against his neck.
The sudden proximity shocks you into silence, and you still. Thinking about it clearly though, as insane and fast-paced as the past few minutes have been, clearly- clearly he would be familiar with this, right? And it’s not as if you know how to make it safely to the ground either.
With that in mind, you gulp, deciding to trust your kidnapper, as infuriating and stupid as it may sound.
Seconds after you think that- you almost let out a gasp as you feel a soft sort of force envelop you both, visibly slowing down your descent- and when you finally open your eyes, you really do let out a gasp.
Below you both is what seems to be a gigantic tower of some sort, the balcony only a few meters away.
“What is that…?” The question falls from your mouth without you even thinking about it, dazed as you are. Yet again your kidnapper happily replies.
“It’s the clock tower- we’re almost there! Just a little bit more, okay, Alice?”
You gulp nervously. Still, it’s obvious to you that if you want to get away, or do anything- you have to reach the ground first, so you remain compliant in his hold until the two of you drop to the balcony.
The second that you hear his feet touch the floor- with a swift kick to his waist, you finally release yourself, although you squeak when instead of cringing in and holding his waist, he holds on to your arm instead and pulls you close, and-
“!?”
-he kisses you.
You freeze.
Soft, warm- and you heart suddenly feels like it could collapse in and of itself, red flooding your face and your movements halted. You can’t even find the words, your eyes wide with shock while his eyes are closed.
And then they flutter open, a flash of something wet across your lips and- you’ve had enough.
If before you held back a little somehow, right now, there’s nothing more you really would like than to just dropkick him off the tower- and with that feeling driving you, you punch him, straight in the gut.
Creep lets out a choked sound, immediately falling to his knees and you grin, but you forget the tight hold he’s kept on your arm, and-
-he pulls you straight down on him, making you hiss as you make contact with what has to be solid muscles, what the-
“-don’t just-!”
“-brat, don’t you know the meaning of eldest first-!”
“-so you’re admitting you’re an old… man..?”
And for what seems to be the nth time of today, you’re given yet another surprise.
This time, in the form of several men bursting through the previously unnoticed door to the tower. At first you notice a man with grey hair and spectacles, but then just as immediately as you see him, he’s pushed to the side by two more men. Both of which are not only fighting, but upon seeing you, immediately fall silent with a shocked gaze.
Still, you’re just as confused… as…
You follow their line of gaze down, down, down, to meet with…
… the eyes of Crazy, who’s- who’s flushedred, eyes wide and a dazed sort of smile on his face, frame trembling and you give up, you really give up, what the hell is going on-
“Jungkook, you little shit!”
All proverbial hell breaks loose as you suddenly find yourself gently but still firmly pulled away, the sudden movement making you dizzy. In the span of two seconds, you find yourself some distance away from Mad, and instead with-
Your eyes widen as you notice the similar looking bunny ears that seemed in fact longer than Crazy’s.
“Are you alright?” If the man before you notices your sudden bewilderment, he doesn’t say anything. He looks at you with worry, lips raised into a heart-shaped pout as he pats you on the head.
“I…” What are you even supposed to say to that question? In the span of what has to be half an hour, you’ve been kidnapped and then thrust into what seems to be another world entirely. Only the fact that panicking would not help is keeping you from bursting into tears. You swallow, coming back to reality when you notice how all too close he is to you. Hastily taking a step back, you smile at him, albeit shakily. “I’m alright, thank you.”
He beams at you, and you’re abruptly reminded of sunshine.
Or maybe it’s his clothes.
Clad in what has to be the strangest fashion you’ve ever seen- nothing is color-coordinated, it looks like the most wonky, tacky thing you have seen in awhile. His rainbow-colored tie clashes badly with the neon green jacket he’s wearing, while his pants- you can’t even figure out if they are jeans or trousers, stripes covering them. The strangest thing yet might be that he actually pulls it off quite well.
One of his large ears is home to a ring sitting on the tip of it, adorning a bright green emerald in the shape of a simple rectangle. It’s beautiful, you find yourself thinking. Very mismatched with his outfit (apart from the jacket), but still… gorgeous.
Oblivious to your inner confusion (and how you’re practically drooling over the gem when it’s not your place to do so), he gives you another smile. “That’s good, I was worried Jungkook did something to you,” he earnestly tells you.
“Technically, he did already steal a kiss,” another one murmurs. You glance over, once again being overwhelmed by how handsome the person speaking is. With hair that seems as though it was spun from silver, the uniform that he wears complements his appearance well, a sword sitting sheathed, ready to strike at any moment. “Though it seems Alice herself doesn’t seem to mind?”
Your eyes settle on the cyan stone- apatite, you dazedly think- fixed in place on the handle of the sword, gleaming and reflecting the sun’s rays. It’s hypnotizing and draws you in, and you would’ve dared to touch it if not for the unwanted attention on each and every single movement of yours.
Your smile stiffens as you register his words moments later into the curious silence. “I don’t believe that can be considered as a kiss, at least on my end,” you reply, your hands clenched around your dress. “It would have to be consensual first.”
“PerhapsI will be the one to first claim a kiss from our Alice then,” you squeak as you suddenly heard a new voice come from beside you- and when you spin around, taking a step backward, you’re met with the face of one of the men from before- boxy grin in place as he unabashedly stares at you with mischief in his eyes. You aren’t quite sure what to say then, speechless from everything that was going on. Too much, too fast.
“Speechless?” He murmurs, his grin turning into a smirk. “Well, I’m not surprised. I do have that effect on people, don’t I?”
“I know you’re confused right now, Alice, but- it’s not that hard to understand. Trust me- we’ll explain everything to you very soon!” Mr Bunny Ears Part 2 says brightly, before frowning as he looks behind you. “Well… as soon as they’re finished.”
It’s only then that you remember the previous events. Turning around, you aren’t quite sure what you were expecting to see. If the men from before were any indication, then the remaining two men would be a sight to see as well.
Still, it doesn’t fail to take your breath away.
A formal outfit, chain of gold with a clock at the end placed neatly on the tuxedo he wore. His hair lightly falls over his face in a side bang, though you can make out his eyes very clearly, with a pair of glasses putting everything together. Smart, is the first thing that came to your mind. Like the sort of person who’d worry over others excessively, you add.
“I mean- you shouldn’t have just kissed her like that.”
“Yeah! What about the ‘everyone gets a chance’ part?” Beside him, the last member of the group finally comes into clear view, huffing the question with a frown.
All that comes into your mind is that he looks like… a king.
The red, fluttering cape behind him, the crown inlaid with gems, the sceptre he currently wields; everything pointed out to a single conclusion. The gem that stands out the most, however, is the red ruby in the middle, charmingly dazzling and basking in the attention of the nature around it. It flickers as you land your eyes on it, finely cut to add to its extravagant flare.
Still, when his words sink into your head, you can’t help wondering if he’s truly a king, or merely wearing clothes like one.
“How are we supposed to lure her in if you hit on her when we aren’t even there? That’s not fair.”
Insane scrunches up his nose, pouting. “It isn’t my fault you’re so slow and old!”
“What did you just say?”
“I said you’re old. Suck it up!”
You bite back the laughter in your throat as you let them settle their argument. You aren’t deficient in the head to intervene without a thought, the situation does not quite require one nor are you comfortable enough to do such a thing.
After all, no matter how friendly these men seem, it is an irrefutable fact that you are in unknown lands. Being excited and careless is the least that you feel you should be. With that, you use the time they argue to observe them instead.
Even if what you’ve been learning so far about them hurts your head instead.
It is only then that Mr Wise seems to remember the situation at hand. Quickly glancing at you, he tries to placate the other two. “Guys, she’s still here-”
“Shut up, Namjoon! I’m being insulted and all you care about is-”
It’s then that his eyes seem to meet you once more, as he stops and stares. “Oh.”
You smile though you feel quite awkward inside, one of the many things you’re experienced in.
In this moment, all attention falls back onto you, and while you’re thankful for the brief opportunity to truly talk and figure out the matter at hand, there’s a certain type of disquiet inside you at having strange, gorgeous men stare at you.
King (you really should learn their names, a part of you murmurs) gives you a faint smirk. “Alice,” he smoothly says your name and- really, that’s another matter that has you on edge. How do these people know your name?
You grip your dress tightly, willing yourself not to show weakness. Curtsying to him, of course- what else are you supposed to do- you open your mouth to introduce yourself, but then-
“I see you know your manners,” he cuts you off, looking quite… pleased? You’re unsure of how to take the tone in his voice. Is he trying to be formal and give you a command, or trying to make you feel at home with the compliment? It isn’t even a compliment, really. The last thing some random strangers as the ones you have stumbled upon would do was make sure you’re comfortable.
…Which you’re not. But they don’t seem to care.
“Unlike some other people,” the last part is added by King in a bitter manner, as he scowls at Insane with a side glance. You are quick to take your mind off of that detail. “Whatever the King orders, you oblige, correct?”
“I- yes, your majesty…?” Your reply is more of a question than an answer, but it seems as if the quick reaction to his words actually made him even more pleased, guessing by the ever-growing smirk of amusement on his face. Should you be scared…?
“Tell me honestly.“ He charges forward as he says, brushing a strand of your hair. You hold your breath, heart palpitations sounding louder in your ears with each beat. The others, unfazed, simply watch.
“Who do you like best from us?”
If not for his steel-cold gaze holding you down, you’d run, run faster than you have ever before. But you’re stuck, frozen, and it’’s not only because of the question he asks, but the way his fingers softly slip through your hair.
Truth be told, you like none of them.
Crazy, is… well, exactly that, completely unhinged and a psychopath. He dared to steal a kiss from your lips- and you had only met him for less than an hour!
And as for the others? Mr Bunny Ears Part 2 is interesting, that was true, a little questionable with his attire but friendly. Perhaps a little toofriendly.
Boxy Grin gently hinted at the same thing Crazy had done. King, the one standing before you rightnow, well… You bite down on your bottom lip. Yeah, he definitely isn’t your favourite. The rest- a minute of meeting did not an accurate analysis makel, so it isn’t as if you can say anything about them.
Really, it’s ridiculous that you’re even thinking for an answer, when you know there’s none.
“Well, obviously, she likes me more. She just isn’t saying it because someone is glaring daggers at her,” Boxy Grin says, rolling his eyes.
“Ohplease, be a little humble, will you?” King frowns. You don’t say anything- what is there to say? You don’t like any one of them… however, of you bring that up, murder did not seem to be far off the list of their reactions. Your current goal, as simple as it may seem at the moment, is to survive, and then hopefully head home.
“Jungkook, tell Taehyung to be humble. He simply can’t understand me, not that I would expect a plebian to do so.”
Crazy is starting to blush even more, you notice, turning red when you look at him with a grimacing look on your face. “W-Well, I-”
“You’re all really stupid, aren’t you?” Mr Bunny Ears Part 2 starts, “The only reason Alice hasn’t spoken yet is because she likes me best.” You would want to tell him ‘no’ firmly, but… He continues before you can say anything at all. “Seokjin, you’re glaring at her again.”
“It isn’t glaring if you do it to encourage someone!”
“What does that even mean-”
“Breaking news! The King of hearts is actually begging someone for the first time in history.” The silver-haired man, presumably a knight from the outfit, speaks.
"As his right-hand man, shouldn’t you be more supportive of him trying to be humble?”
“Spreading news of our great King becoming more humble is a way to support him, Namjoon,” he crosses his arms. “I always endeavor to spread tales of his greatness whenever I can.”
“Oh, for my flamingos’ sake, I am not trying to beg her!”
“Who even cares about your flamingos?”
“Youhaveflamingos!?”
“Should I sit down? This seems like it’s going to take a while, isn’t it?”
“Rather than sit down, I can already see this devolving into a fight-”
“Oh, I’ll definitely give you a fight alright, how-”
You startle as you see one of them pull out a- is that a gun!? How is it that a simple argument somehow devolves into a gunfight!?
“-howdare you people obstruct the king!? Why, if you’re looking for death, then I’m not opposed-”
Not to mention how the others seem to be getting just as agitated, the bright flashes of swords and the glints of metal from guns attracting your gaze. You look around- is no one going to stop it-?
“You’re the one being an obstruction!”
The resounding dark looks, yells, and the jerky movements all tell you otherwise, and you debate on leaving while they’re preoccupied. You’re not about to stay in a what seems to be soon a warzone-
“-All of you, stand down!”
With that, everyone turns quiet. The voice that last spoke seems to ring through the suddenly quiet air, as everyone turns to him.
Mr. Smart Guy looks at them with what you could only describe as burningrage, towering over the rest in the midst of the fit of anger. He’s the tallest, you realize, with how easily he’s able to intimidate everyone in the room. Even you are taken aback by the sudden stern voice of his, cold and unnerving.
“I will not tolerate any fights in this place. I assume you all know that by now?” Hastily as they should, the six other men nod to his words. Not all are willing, most are more than reluctant. "Yet it seems I deal with toddlers instead of adult men, who seem to forget the rules of this tower everytime.”
“This tower is a neutral area, and therefore it is not a place for you to hold your violence-happy, warmongering, amnesiac idiotic selves, and for clock’s sake-”
He sighs, loud and irritated, and you spot one of the men hastily putting away a weapon.
“… At this point, nothing will get done until the next cycle. Well then, if you can’t behave yourselves to be better than at least children, then I suppose it is partly my fault for believing you could do so. … I will correct that now,” he nods. The men look at him, confused, before Glasses guy points to the door behind him.
“Leave.”
You keep mum in the silence that follows.
“… Well then, what are you waiting for?” He raises a brow, a frown on his face as he meets his eyes with everyone.
“But Alice-”
“Go,” he repeats firmly. “I will take it from here, since you people seem to be too inept to do so. Just wait for Alice in your territories.”
His lips curl. “That is, if she picks you.”
“This is breaking the rules, Namjoon,” King grumbles. Beside him, Crazy nods frantically.
“We’re supposed to tell her about Wonderland together!”
“And have you guys actually done anything in regards to that?” He asks skeptically, before shaking his head. “I believe I already told you. I will not budge on this issue- leave. If there are consequences to deal with for breaking this rule, then I will gladly bear it, if it means having you people out of my tower,” he scoffs. “I will call you when we can start the official introductions, and I hope you will be ready by then to act as the role holders that you are.”
With that, the group seemingly deflates as one, though they finally start to leave.
King shoots you a last look before he turns away swiftly, the sunlight making his crown shine above anything else, its looming shadow falling over your small figure.
“I am leaving. Come to my castle when you have the least bit of respect for me and my flamingos.” He huffs, theatrically, might you add, taking a sharp turn from you to the door they had entered from.
“All hail the King of hearts!” Exclaiming so, the Knight leaves rather slowly than you’d expect for the energy in his voice, trailing after the King himself. You can see his figure sigh a little before the door closes behind him.
“Well you know what that means,” Boxy Grin says, a little while after the doors close. “I’m having a tea party tonight to the King of hearts becoming more humble and begging Alice.” Saying so, he takes off his awfully-decorated top hat to reveal a teapot and two cups. “Hoseok, dear, have some tea,” it’s a broken british accent that he speaks in. You have the desire to cover your ears in case he goes too high and potentially breaks his voice-
But he doesn’t.
Instead, Mr Bunny Ears Part 2, Hoseok, you catch his name, takes the offered teacup and begins walking towards the door. “You’re all invited!” And with that, andBoxyGrinchasingafterhim, they leave too.
You let out a sigh as soon as they left. “H-Hi,” oh no. Oh goodness, why? Why can’t they leave you alone for a single second?
It’s Crazy.
“Sorry for… all of that,” he’s still tomato red, but you refrain from paying that too much attention. “They are a little crazy.” Andsoareyou, you want to say. Clearing his throat, he sighs, albeit shakily, “Well! I should, uhm, leave now that the King of hearts is gone. They’ll be expecting me,” it takes him all of his courage to walk away- but not before giving one last sad glance, as though he’s a puppy being forced to part with its owner and why did your thoughts even go that way?
You sigh, and upon making eye contact with him, you glare back like there’s no tomorrow.
It’s quiet now. There may still be two strangers remaining that are looking at you weirdly, perhaps even whispering things to each other, but at least it’s a bit more calm now.
You can hear steps coming towards you, but you only look up when you hear a familiar voice call your name.
“Alice,” it’s the one man that you had thought looked smart- though you did not get his name. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope they did not scare you too much. Please find me as soon as you’ve taken everything in. And please feel comfortable, this land is now your home too.” And with that, he gives you a little smile, scrunches his nose and fixes his glasses, then leaves.
You blink at the last man standing- he has cat ears? How did you not notice before? If you remember correctly, he came with the rest of the men but hadn’t said anything, right?
You expect him to say something, anything, but he just takes a step, and another, and then another, until-
A click and thud of a door. He’s gone, just like the rest of them.
You feel a sigh rip its way out of you.
You slide down, down, down until you’re practically sitting on the ground, for once, uncaring if your dress is dirtied. In this situation though, you find that you can’t care much, if at all.
For a few moments, you find yourself struggling to realize just what, exactly, should you feel. Even when you think back on it, everything feels like a blur, too fast, too intense for you to process.
What- and pardon yourself here- the ever living fuck has just happened?
You’ve been having these thoughts earlier, but now they seem to continuously repeat in your mind. Did that really happen? Haveyouactuallygoneintoanotherworld?
You don’t want to believe it. Who would? Here you are, without friends or family, surrounded by unknown people, in an unknown land. How are you going to get home? How are you going to survive?
… What more, the strange, focused attention the men earlier held for you. You have no idea what happened then, nor how they knew your real name. It’s a huge problem- especially when you remember that Crazy stoleakiss from you, and the others don’t seem to be far off from doing the same thing, given the incentive.
Looking down to peer at the treasured heirloom, you find it’s red color brightening into a pink, shining and dimming consistently, almost as if there is a light inside of it. It scares you, it really does, becauseitlooksasifthetear’sglistening, but that next to everything else and the fact that it has never done this before your entire life, only when you stumble into a strange world…
Just then, a strong gust of wind blows by, and with it, you feel the urge to burst into tears.
What the hell are you going to do now?
Your body trembles, you’re lost and you’re scared-
It’s okay. It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay, right? You are. You’re going to survive, you’ll get out of this somehow, you will.
Because.
You’ve survived until now. You survived the mansion, their stares, your mother, the school-
You made it through. You tell that to yourself repeatedly. Youmadeitthrough.
Right.
Right.
Exhaling gently, you forcibly push all lingering feelings of panic and despair down, deeper down. You can’t break down now. You have to find a way to get through this.
Going home is your priority, has to be your priority. There lies everything you’ve worked for and understood in your life, but you have to face reality- perhaps you can’t go home right at this moment.
So.
First of all. You need information. Merely staying where you are is no good, either. Your options, you gather, are to-
A. Go with King, and the silver-haired guy. You guess that they reside in the huge, red castle south of where you seem to be.
B. Go with Boxy Grin and Mr. Bunny Ears Part 2, who, after minutes of squinting, you haphazardly guess to live in the huge mansion a little ways off the red castle. You say so because of the huge garden connected to it, where there’s a white table with what you assume to be decorations and food on it.
C. Go with Smart guy, he hasn’t gone far yet, you hope.
D. Go into the town, and brave your luck to find a house willing to house you.
However, each option has its pros and cons.
Option A. You… are highly uncomfortable with King, although Silver haired guy seems okay if not a bit weird. Although they would probably easily let you stay, you aren’t eager to find out what happens when the King decides to pursue his delusions of you liking him. Silver haired guy might help him too since he’s a subordinate.
So. Very low chances for that.
Option B. Seems to be slightly better than Option A. However, considering Boxy Grin casually assumed you liked him, and… Hoseok? The thought that his name seems slightly familiar flashes in your mind, but you will it away. For now, you don’t feel okay calling them by their names (truthfully it doesn’t seem to suit them as much as their nicknames [that you gave to them] do, so…) Bunny Guy Part 2 did the same, you aren’t sure you want to go there either. Even if the thought of tea parties reminds you of home.
Option C. The one most promising so far. Everyone so far seems to be… not quite right, so to say. But Glasses guy seemed to be the best and most normal one yet, if just as exasperated as you. He’s just as unknown as the others, that’s for sure, but you can reason with him better than you can with the others, and that makes him the best candidate so far.
Option D. Under Option C it seems. Blindly trusting people is just another way to say ‘please trick me and use me!’, and you are not that desperate to risk that. Perhaps if you really had no other choice. You don’t know the current state of the town, and you could find out later if needed.
Still, now that you’ve reviewed your options, it seems that Option C is the best one so far-
And with that in mind, you resolve yourself.
You arrived- no, you got abducted into another world. Fine. Alright. You’d live. You then got left behind bytheverysamepersonwhoabductedyou, but fine! That is fine too. More than peachy. You’ll find a way to survive and get back home.
And the first step is to find Mr. Smart Guy.
It’s the faint sound of movement that finally draws your attention, alerting you to the possibility that there’s someone in the room nearby. What feels like half an hour of wandering around, and you’ve managed to tour around a bit of (what you now know) to be a tower. Built in a square structure, with what seems to be an endless amount of stairs connecting each floor, the tower has quite the number of floors. You aren’t sure, but between guessing how tall each floor is and the distance to the ground, you guess it to be around twelve, maybe fourteen flours, including the balcony from before. It’s amazing, it truly is, but-
The fact that it took you six floors before finding the first hint of life beyond dusty rooms, not as much.
You stop by the door, listening for any warning sounds inside.
But you don’t hear anything- except for the sound of things being opened and closed, presumably side tables. Was this someone’s bedroom? Pushing the door ajar just a little, you peep through.
Ah. Finally.
He’s still wearing those glasses, hidden behind a stack of papers. To his right is a bookshelf, to his left, a few drawers. Not a bedroom, you think, more like an office of a sort. You frown a little, trying to make out the expression on his face, but open the door a little more, and you might make an unwanted creak and give up your location. Or the fact that you were staring at him in a rather creepy position.
So you’ve found Mr. Smart Guy.
Yet, still, you stand there, frozen and unwilling to move. You shouldn’t be scared of him though. He doesn’t seem intimidating at all, so why can’t you just approach him? You bite down on your bottom lip, before letting out a heavy sigh.
Remember your main objectives.
Clearing your throat, you make your presence known to Mr. Smart Guy as you open the door and enter the comfortable-looking office.
“I- I’m sorry to disturb, but, good afternoon.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, though you hope he hears it in the silence of the room. Looking up towards you, you see relief color his face.
“I wondered when you would come,” he smiles, though his hands still hold the clock gears, he gestures to one of the chairs nearby, “It’s alright, please, sit down.”
You follow his words with barely any hesitance, though you remain cautious. Still, it’s a relief to think that maybe you’ll finally get a clue on what seems to be going on. The man coughs once seemingly thinking over his words, before he starts.
“I’m certain you’re feeling confused right now, so if you have any questions, please.”
Thank god. You take in a deep breath and ask not the first question that’s been driving you crazy, but the one that you need the answer to the most. “Do you know how I might get home? And if not that, then at least, an idea of where I might stay? I… the discussion earlier left me at a loss, since everyone immediately came and left without answering a single question of mine.” You look down, biting your lip in distress. When you speak again, your voice is a few sizes quieter. “And perhaps… why did they seem so fixated on asking who I liked best…?”
The expression on his face falters to a more solemn, stiff one at your words. He fumbles with his pen, the frown widening by the second. For a moment, he seems to think over his words- before he answers you.
“Hm, I suppose you’re right. It must have been terribly confusing earlier, to be caught up in the antics of the toddlers. … I’m afraid I can’t answer all your questions right now, since doing so for some of them goes against the rules of this land.” And he blinks at you, lost in thought. “However, you’ll find a place to stay by tonight, you need not worry.”
“And as for your earlier question…”
He runs his hand through his hair, brows furrowed, before he resumes speaking.
“This world is named Wonderland- a parallel world to your own- which people here call the real world. All those who inhabit this place are bound by rules, and as Alice, if you desire to go home, then it is in your best interest to complete the game.”
You blankly stare back at him. Not even several sentences in, and you’re already feeling blindsided. “The game…?”
He smiles wryly. “… I’m afraid to say that that question will have to be asked at a later time. For now, what’s important is for you to pick a territory that you might be comfortable having a discussion in… as well as a faction to stay with.”
“…What,” you softly say, shocked and stunned and possibly bewildered as well. “I- you have to be kidding me,” you mumble, “That’s…”
Smart Guy easily shrugs, looking at ease in contrast to you. “…I assure you, I am not joking. Although I am not at liberty to say why or how, Alice has the right to choose where to live during the remainder of her stay. Although it was to be decided earlier, the others were…” he grimaces before continuing, “…a little too rambunctious, so I sent them on their way. Besides, with how the argument was unfurling, rather than letting you choose of your own free will, it was more likely that coercion, and then a brawl would happen. Hence, why I believe it’d be best for you to have some information, if not a choice about which people you will be staying with. And so-”
Here he pulls out a map from a nearby drawer, smoothening it out on the desk near the two of you. It unfurls, revealing quite a quirky landscape.
Surrounded by mountains, you see a mishmash of villages, a mansion, castles- isthatthetoweryou’rein?- and what seems to be an- an amusement park?
“Your options,” the man gestures first to a huge red castle on the bottom right. You can see miniature mazes and rose gardens drawn around, along with a crown. “Hearts Castle, where the King of Hearts, along with the Knight of Hearts and White Rabbit reside.”
Your mind flits back to the men from before- the pompous king, who’d quite honestly irritated you, the knight who seemed more inclined to snark than to serve, and-
You hold back the annoyed twitch as your thoughts go to the young man with rabbit ears from before, the one who’dkidnappedyouandstoleakissfromyou.
Yeah, you aren’t going there.
His finger by now moves to the mansion in the middle of the town. You spot two guns in a cross, circled by roses. “Hatter Mansion, where lives the Mad Hatter, as well as the March Hare.”
The one with the tea cups from before, you assume. You question their sanity, but looking back on it, they were much more preferable to living with, rather than the first three.
Still… remembering how one of them- the Mad Hatter himself, probably- assumed you to be falling for him… perhaps not.
Finally, he points to the amusement park that sits on the upper left corner. “Or the Amusement Park, the territory of the Cheshire Cat.”
Cheshire Cat? Who…?
Might be the one who left last, you deduced. No, you won’t be going there either. You aren’t keen to share a living space with someone you barely know anything about, even less than you do the others.
You pick your options carefully. There’s only a little chance of success, but…
“Come to think of it,” you change the subject as gracefully as you can, smiling sweetly at him. A step forward is all it takes before you’re standing close to him, and you fix an interested look on your face. “I wasn’t able to learn your name earlier.”
He exhales, eyes now seemingly turned and glued to the clock that you now notice he’s fixing on the table. “It’s Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”
…Instantly do you notice the weird way he’s told you his name, though you refrain from commenting. “My name is Alice, Alice Liddell. But please do call me by my first name, I wouldn’t mind at all!” You feign cheerfulness. “Would it be okay to call you by your first name, Namjoon?”
“Youare Alice, after all,” is his only reply. You suppose that’s as much as a confirmation you’re going to get- the short replies that you’ve suddenly been getting all but telling you he’s losing interest in your conversation. Still, his words are confusing. The way he’d called you Alice seemed more than your name, but rather a title-?
And he all but agreed that his first name is Namjoon. Kim Namjoon. You’ve only met one person who introduced themselves with their family name before their first.
A flash of intrigue, one that makes you wary as he bends down a little to smile at you. “My name is Malchin. Lee Malchin. I’m ever so pleased to meet you, dear Alice.”
The mysteries keep piling up, you suppose. More questions that come as answers arrive.
“Do you live here alone, perhaps?” The tower is full of empty rooms, the upper floors full of dirt and dust. As grand as the tower seems to be, it’s surprisingly empty. Lonely.
“Actually, I do,” he looks at you for a split second before averting his gaze down to the clock he seems to be fixing. And he’s trying hard, you notice. You’re not very educated on clock fixing though, so you’ll skip over the details.
You scramble your brain for a way to keep the conversation moving, although the other person seems more than uninterested. “You must be quite an important figure then,” you eventually say.
The sound of metal on metal, the clock being repaired slowly dies down.
Namjoon turns to you- his lips purse and he briefly gives you an irritated look. “Alice, may I ask for your reason in doing this? I presume it’s obvious I have no desire to talk to you.”
You wince minutely at the harsh tone he sports. “I…”
“Well?”
“…What about the Clock Tower? Could I stay here?”
Namjoon stills. You hold your breath, suddenly feeling nervous, but…
“…It would be foolish to choose my domain,” he eventually says. Namjoon’s face is set into a frown as he speaks to you, words clear and cutting. “As I have no interest in participating in this game. You’re better off winning over the other role holders.”
“But-” you hesitantly push forward. “Why not? I mean, so far you seem to be the only one who-”
He cuts you off.
“I am the Clock Maker. My duty is to Wonderland more than it is to a game where we pander to the whims of a girl for a chance at a world unknown to us,” he smoothly says, but- you shiver as you hear the undertone of scorn. All previous gentleness and warmth has disappeared from him, leaving only the coldness of a man who is annoyed- before he thaws a little, seeing the timidity in your eyes.
He stands up, and you take a step back, confused- and then he steers you by the shoulders
“J-joon” you moaned loudly as another wave of pleasure hit your body causing you to see stars while Namjoonsmirked looking at your weak body helplessly squirming under him. He groaned when you clenched around him tightly causing him to thrust inside you hard “fuck babygirl how are you still so fucking tight?” He grunted when your nails scratched his back leaving red marks but he didn’t give a damn about. You whined looking at him with half closed eyes and pulled him down to a messy kiss. Your tongue and teeth clashed before you pulled back and attacked your lips to his neck sucking harshly causing him to growl and fuck into you deeper and a cry of his name escaped your lips “d-daddy!” He groaned and suddenly pulled out but before you could even whimper at the sudden emptiness, he turned you around making you lay on your stomach with your ass up in the air. You both moaned in sync as he entered inside your even tighter asshole. The new angle giving him much more access to every part of your warm and plush ass hole. Your face was squished against the pillow and a line of drool was seen too but you could care less when your fiancee was literally fucking you into the mattress. “Yeah? You like that? Fuck baby i shouldn’t even let you cum with the way you were teasing me the whole night. Were you that desperate for my cock? Fucking slut” you moaned shamelessly nodding as you became a babbling mess “y-yes daddy! Like your cock so much” you cried out as the coil forming in your stomach snapped and you came without a warning causing namjoon to groan “you are so fucking beautiful. Bet you will look more beautiful with my seed right? ” you nodded immediately and he chuckled darkly “makes me want to fuck a child inside you. Would look so fucking pretty round with my kid” “y-yes! Want your seed joon” you gasped when he shooted his load of heavy cum inside you with a low moan of your name. Before he fell besides you breathing heavily. After a few minutes of just heavy breathing he asked “ tomorrow is your day off right?” “Yeah why?” You mumbled feeling your eyes getting heavier which widened when he suddenly flipped you around and hovered above you with a smirk “then let’s put all those baby shoes to use babygirl ” you moaned at his words and your hand went to stroke his already hard cock.
Pairing: Kim Namjoon x f!reader (with a side of Hoseok x reader and Taehyung x reader)
Summary: Namjoon never wanted a Sugar Baby, no matter what Yoongi and Hoseok said. You never wanted a Sugar Daddy, despite the insistence from Jimin. Until your life takes a turn and you really need the money, fast. What was supposed to be a one night thing, a birthday present for a big time rapper and producer, turns into so much more when you find in each other what you never thought you had been looking for.
Genre: Fluff, angst, so much smut, strangers to lovers, sugar daddy au.
Chapter warnings: TIME AND DATES MAKE SENSE DURING THE STORY! Keep an eye out for them. Drinking, mentions of being drunk, angst, jealousy, SMUT!
“Are you alive in there?” Jimin was calling for you. “I’m coming in.”
You pulled the covers over your head as the door to your bedroom opened. You heard shuffling, then felt the pull of the covers off of you. Protests didn’t matter with Jimin, so you were left huffing and trying to grab for a pillow.
“I could be naked, you know.” you warned him.
“Yeah, well, nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Jimin was using his no bulshit tone, Busan satoori thick on his pouty complaints.
You didn’t blame your best friend, you had been in bed for the past three days; skipping classes and barely leaving your room for meals. The trip to NYC had absolutely drained you, the jet lag only actually hitting you with full force once you made it back to Seoul. Plus, you couldn’t remember a night on the short weekend trip that you got more than five hours of sleep.
Not that you were complaining, you still thought it had been one of the best weekends of your life. Even with all of the ups and downs and the way your last night ended.
“I got you food.”
“What kind of food?”
“The kind you eat, now sit up and talk.”
You groaned loudly, eyes fighting to get used to the new clarity in the room from the blinds having been pulled open. Jimin wasn’t actually mad at you, he was merely a believer of tough love. And after being in bed for so long, you had to start reacting to life and getting back to your normal routine.
Sitting against your pillows and headboard, you received the paper bag and coffee cup that Jimin had gotten for you from the cafe near SNU.
“How was class today?” you asked while pulling out the cinnamon roll from the paper bag.
“Everyone is going a little crazy with the expo coming up, most teachers are just letting us work on it.” Jimin sat across from you, folding his legs on his lap.
“See? I’m not even missing much.”
“Mr. Min asked about you.”
“Who’s Mr. Min?”
You didn’t remember having any teachers with that last name. Unless the jet lag had messed you up so bad you were forgetting things.
“Min Yoongi.” he said with a giggle. “He picked me up from class today, just to give me a ride home before going back to work.”
“What a dedicated sugar daddy.”
“He is. But I think he was on a secret mission.”
You ate a few more bites of your dessert and took gulps of the iced coffee. Jimin eyed you suspiciously before saying:
“I was under the impression Namjoon hyung sent him to get news from you.”
“He could have texted me himself.” your shoulders moved up and down.
Jimin reached for your phone on the nightstand beside your bed, trying to wake up the sleeping device. He waved the ‘NO BATTERY’ sign lighting up on the screen before going black again.
“Oh shit, I thought I had plugged it in!” you cried out, pulling the charging cord and finding it dangling, not stuck to the wall like you thought. “Alright, my bad. I’ll text him later.”
“Later? Alright, what happened? Last thing I know you’re texting me plans for a confession, and now you don’t even care about seeing or talking to him?”
“Of course I care about all that, Minie. I miss that goofy giant so much!”
“Then what’s the problem, babe?”
You took a deep breath, scrunching up the paper bag after finishing your food.
“I don’t know how to act around him right now.” you admitted.
“Did he not reciprocate your feelings?”
“I never told him about my feelings.”
Jimin’s small eyes grew round as he raised his eyebrows and pushed his plush lips into a glossy pout.
The three days you spent in bed –and away from Namjoon– were enough to help you put things into perspective. You weren’t mad, nor upset with Namjoon. You understood that his ex showing up wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t interested in pursuing things with her. But you were put under the impression that things were still fresh between them, that maybe he wasn’t ready to start a new relationship, maybe he wasn’t even interested in one.
So you told your friend about Aecha and everything you knew about her, as well as the few encounters you had with her, which culminated on her surprise visit to your hotel room and asking Namjoon to get back together. You left out all of what Namjoon had told you in bed that night, things much too personal for passing along, but Jimin still got the jist of things.
“So you’re just not saying anything anymore?”
“How can I say anything? I’m not sure I want to get in the middle of whatever it is that’s going on between them.” you sighed. “Besides, if Namjoon feels something for me, he can tell me himself.”
“I’ll support whatever you want to do.” he smiled softly. “But you won’t stop seeing him, will you?”
“I don’t think I could do that even if I wanted to. I guess things will just stay the same.”
“That’s better than nothing, I guess.” Jimin started getting up from your bed. “Now text him, or I’m going to start feeling jealous of all of Yoongi’s questions.”
“Oh, please, that man is a simp for you.”
NOVEMBER 25TH | 12:35
“Bzzzzzzzzzz.”
Namjoon jumped in his chair, reaching for the phone on the table in front of him. Only to see no new notifications on the screen and Hoseok laughing his ass off next to him.
“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” Namjoon mumbled, eyes almost coming to a complete close.
“She still hasn’t texted?”
“She has, we’ve been talking nonstop.” he deadpanned. “That’s why I jumped when I thought my phone was buzzing.”
Hoseok fell into a fit of laughter again, having a great time at his best friend’s misery.
They were both sitting in a private room of a restaurant they liked to go to every now and then. It was one they would walk past during the years when Cypher was only a dream and they barely had the funds to eat three meals a day. Ever since they grew big and successful, the two of them –and Yoongi, who should be arriving soon– made a point of coming back and having a hearty meal at least once a month.
“Do you want me to text her? Maybe she’ll answer me.” Hoseok meant well, but his sly smile wasn’t helping.
“Not the time for you to hit on her, hyung.”
“I didn’t even mean it like that–” the shorter man tried bulshitting his way through, but Namjoon’s pointed look showed he didn’t even get to try. “Alright, I did. But I actually need to talk to her about sending me hers and that Jungkook guy’s portfolio.”
“Do you think you can fit them in for Seokjin’s mv?”
“If they’re good.”
Namjoon didn’t know anything about Jungkook’s work, just that he had a good heart and was mostly excited about music and filming. But he knew you, and he knew you were good at what you did. This could be an opportunity for you to start off the career path you wanted, the first step towards the success he knew you’d have.
“So if I text her, I can ask her to come to the building and you can talk to her then.” Hoseok tried, and this time he didn’t have any ulterior motives.
“I don’t want to have to lure her in to talk to her.” Namjoon scoffed behind his water glass. He really wished it was alcohol instead.
“You know what I don’t get?” Hobi was saying as he fixed his slouched posture and leaned over the table. “Why are you so pressed about her answering you if you just told me this morning you weren’t confessing anymore?”
The last conversation he had with Aecha that night in New York had put a damper in his plans to tell you how he felt, to ask you out for real. It made him realize that he had issues within himself that he needed to work on before starting a new relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to you, and it wouldn’t be fair to him, to just jump into something now when he wasn’t ready.
“Because just because I don’t think I can be a good boyfriend to her right now, doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing her.”
“You mean you want to keep fucking her?” Hoseok felt into his chair again, eyes staring at nothing as his head leaned to the side. “Can’t say I blame you. I miss that mou–”
“Watch it.”
“Yah, you two bickering like an old married couple already?” Yoongi was throwing himself into the last empty chair across from them.
The elder looked tired, as he always did, but his lips were slightly red and his pale skin had a fresh purple bruise on his neck. Yoongi wasn’t even trying to hide the fact his morning had been a lot more exciting than theirs.
“So?” Namjoon perked up at the arrival of his other best friend.
“Jimin said your girl is fine. Messed up from the jet lag, not avoiding you.” Yoongi explained and Namjoon felt a little relieved. “Also, she forgot to plug her phone in, so she didn’t get any of your texts.”
“Ah. Silly baby.” usually he was really good at masking his stupidly fond reactions to you, but he hadn’t seen you in three days.
“Yikes. Is that how I get about Jiminie?” Yoongi grimaced.
“You’re worse.” both boys said in unison.
The waitress came over with a new glass of cold water for the newcomer and took their orders. They had been over so many times that no one even had to look at the menu. After she was gone and they were left alone again, Yoongi sighed.
“You might have bigger problems than a discharged phone.”
“What is it?”
“You remember how Mr. Lee has a spot at Cypher, since he’s one of our main investors?” he started, and both Hoseok and Namjoon frowned.
“Don’t tell me he wants to start working for us.” Hoseok scoffed.
“No, not him. He wants the spot for Aecha.”
“Absolutely not.” Namjoon was shaking his head. “What happened to her job?!”
“He said she’s trying to branch out.” even Yoongi didn’t believe that.
“Well, tell her to branch out somewhere else.” Namjoon was starting to get agitated.
It was obvious to the three of them just why Aecha wanted to be a part of Cypher. Now of all times.
“We can’t not accept her, Joonah.” Yoongi said, even if he felt for his dongsaeng.
“Yes we can.”
“Yeah, if you want to start taking in any artist, and not only the ones we like and believe in.” Hoseok pondered. “Are you ready to become –how do you put it– a producer whore?”
NOVEMBER 25TH | 17:46
As it turns out, talking to Joon –even if through texts– did help lift your spirits quite a bit. You hadn’t talked about anything too serious, but you had made plans to meet tomorrow. He would give you a ride to classes in the morning and then pick you up again for lunch. And maybe, just maybe, you’d ask to come over to his penthouse later that night with the excuse of seeing Monie.
You missed Joon today. But not seeing him until the morning would give you time to psychologically prepare yourself to see Namjoon. You’d have all night to make it clear to your head –and more troublesomely, your heart– that all that you felt for the man needed to stay locked inside a drawer until told otherwise.
But the universe had other plans for you.
Just after your shower, when you were still towel drying your hair and leaving the bathroom you shared with Jimin, the doorbell to your small apartment rang twice.
“Minie?” you called, twisting the key to unlock the door. “Forgot the key– Oh, Joon!”
“Hey.” he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly. He eyed your wet hair and the towel in your hands. “Did I get here too late?”
A giggle was breaking out of you, and suddenly things were okay between you two. You opened the door wider for the big man to fit through, only now realizing you were wearing a pair of old Pokémon pajamas and you hoped he wouldn’t mind it.
“What are you doing here?”
“Couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” he sighed, letting you notice his heady shoulders and tired stance. “Wanted to see you so bad.”
Step one: Controlling the butterflies in your stomach. Mission status: Failed.
“And a little duckie told me you haven’t been eating right.” Joon said, showing you a takeout bag from one of your favorite restaurants you had gone together once before.
“Little duckie? Is that what you call Jimin?”
He shook his head, following you into the kitchen. “Yoongi hyung calls him that. It’s kinda cute.”
“That’s funny, Minie calls him kitty.”
“Okay, that’s starting to be a little too sweet.” he laughed, resting the takeout on your small counter. “Why won’t those two just admit their feelings and get this suffering over with?”
Step two: Ignoring the pang in your chest. Mission status: Failed.
You nodded at his words, wondering if there was more to the statement or if it was just wishful thinking on your part.
“Maybe they are scared that taking that step might change things too much. Maybe they aren’t ready.” you said without looking at him, tearing through the plastic bags.
“And it’s okay to keep things how they are, as long as they still have each other.” Joon said, absentmindedly.
Again, you agreed with a move of your head, focusing on opening the lids of the takeout containers without getting burned with the steam. Namjoon had picked your favorite from the little italian restaurant in Hongdae; tomato sauce pasta and crispy chicken.
“Fuck, that looks delicious.” you almost drooled on the spot.
Namjoon’s low chuckle was right behind you, freezing you in place. His hands went to each side of you on the counter, chin resting on the top of your head.
“Thought you needed something good to heal the jet lag.”
“It’s great. Should I put it on a pan and make some sauce splashes, or is it okay if I just put it on plates?”
“Aish, you’ll never let me leave it down, will you?”
You looked up right in time to see his dimples poking at his cheeks.
Step three: Not melting from his face. Mission status: miserably failed.
“I’ll forget about it when you actually cook for me.”
“I already told you I’ll make you that cereal ice cream you loved so much.”
Your nose twisted as you walked away from Namjoon to pick up the plates and serve your dinner. You already missed his warmth and at that point you gave up on your missions for tonight. It was a lost battle from the moment he stepped into the apartment.
The two of you ate the delicious food on the small kitchen table, talking about nothing and everything. As it turns out, Namjoon was a big fan of Pokémon and even told you about his card collection. He said he kept it hidden, for reasons you could guess, but he could show them to you whenever you wanted. In return, you told him you had a couple decks yourself, but they stayed behind at your mother’s house.
He was very disappointed about that, telling you he had some you could trade.
After the food had been consumed, you got up to gather the empty takeout containers in a trash bag and Namjoon looked around with a confused wrinkle on his forehead and the dirty plates on his hand.
“Looking for something?” you laughed while tying the knot on the trash bag.
“Your dishwasher?”
“You really don’t remember what it’s like to be a broke university student, do you?” you snickered. “Fame changes people.”
“It’s alright, I can just wash it by hand. Like we’re back in prehistoric times.”
You laughed louder, fondly watching the man walk around your kitchen picking up everything that was dirty and bringing it to your too-low-of-a-sink and start washing them. And you were a weak woman. You see a tall man in sweatpants and white shirt, doing home chores, and you get a little silly.
“Just leave it there, I can wash them later.” you were saying as you hugged his middle, face smushing against his back.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” you kissed his spine, feeling how his muscles contracted as he moved. “Wanna show you something in my room.”
That was an easy fight to win, as you heard the faucet closing and felt Namjoon wiping his hands on his pants, even with the perfectly good tea towel hanging just beside his head. When he turned around, so did you. Namjoon stuck to your back, much like you had done to him, and followed you closely into your bedroom.
He sat on the edge of your bed without you even needing to tell him, the poor thing must have been so tired. You walked to your small study desk, unzipping your backpack that was all ready for tomorrow, producing a black folder. You gave it to Namjoom, who opened it curiously and flipped carefully through the pages.
“Is this your work?” he sounded impressed, but not surprised at all. “Wow, this is really great.”
You had prepared that folder with a few of your styling jobs you did in the past. They had been few and far between, but you weren’t as inexperienced as he might think.
“At the end I added a few collages of pieces I think would look good on Jin.” you told him, helping him reach those pages.
Namjoon studied the choices, nodding and pointing to his favorite sets and picks.
“You got the concept perfectly. How did you guess?”
“I can’t take all the credit, Hobi did tell me a little of the concept you guys are planning for the music video.” you received the folder back and zipped it up, leaving it on top of your too cluttered desk. “Will you bring it to him tomorrow, please? I’ll get Jk’s flash drive in the morning and give it to you at lunch?”
“Yeah, sure.” Namjoon nodded, but all he could think about was: “When have you talked to hyung?”
“You mean, today?”
“No, I mean when did he get your number?” he tried sounding casual, even matching his words with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Oh. He asked me for it on Jimin’s birthday.” you said as you organized a little of the mess on your table. “You know, after the three of us…”
Had sex. Together. All three of you.
At the time it had been fun, and Namjoon didn’t regret it. If the situation was right, he wouldn’t mind doing it again, even. But right now his brain was conjuring up the memories of Hoseok laughing at his phone, being secretive about who he was talking to, and even the times he excused himself from the room to pick up a call in the hallway.
“Joonie.” he looked up at your call, only now noticing you were standing in front of him. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of him too.”
“Me? Jealous?” he scoffed.
It sounded fake even to his ears.
You bit down your lips to stop a laugh, pushing him back by the shoulders to have him sit up straight and you could swing your legs to each side of his hips. You fit so nicely on his lap, it felt like home to you.
Namjoon didn’t think twice about circling your waist with his arms, looking slightly up to your face.
“You don’t have to be jealous of Hobi.” you said with a small hand caressing his cheek. “He’s just a friend.”
“Okay.” his lips puckered in a way of asking for a kiss.
“A very hot friend.” you continued, kissing his pout that turned into a thin line. “A friend that has seen me naked.” another kiss. “A friend I wouldn’t mind fucking again–”
“Shut up.”
He said without any real bite, but some fake annoyance. Namjoon pulled you by the back of your neck to shut you up himself. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it was kind of hot to have you saying those things, teasing him with the ideas of a new threesome, even if it did make him a smidge jealous. He just loved how fun you were, how there were possibilities with you.
He never had that before.
And as you melted into his kiss, giving back everything he was giving you, he knew that at the end of the day you were his. Not Hoseok’s.
DECEMBER 3RD | 14:09
Rkive, just like Namjoon’s penthouse, was becoming a second and third home to you, with how much time you had been spending in both places. Initially you had been a little hesitant in coming over to the Cypher building, not wanting to intrude or to be on the way of his work. But Namjoon always insisted that your presence calmed him, so you came over every time.
That Friday afternoon wasn’t any different. The moment he was texting you to come over after class, you were agreeing.
Which is how you found yourself sitting on the small space between his couch and wood coffee table, with papers and coloring pencils scattered in front of you. It wasn’t the Nakashima he had bought yet, which is why he wasn’t complaining about the risk of scratching it.
You were doing your university work, and Namjoon was across from you. He had heavy headphones over one of his ears –so he could still hear you, should you need him– and would sing the lyrics out loud every now and then.
He might not be the best singer, but his words were deep and heartfelt, and grabbed your attention each time. You were about to compliment them on it when your phone buzzed on your lap.
Taetae [14:10]:It’s throwback night at Burn. Who’s down?
JK [14:10]: I have boxing class in the morning
Minie [14:12]:I’m going out with Yoonie tonight
Taetae [14:12]:Yn? cmon don’t leave me hanging
You [14:13]: Who else is coming? Can I bring Joon?
Taetae [14:13]:Some friends from class, sure you can bring the bodyguard.
You [14:14]: Be nice!
You closed your phone after texting your friends’ group chat and turned to Namjoon. He was scribbling quickly onto a piece of paper with a pen in the shape of a cactus, so you waited for him to be done.
“Joonie.”
At the sound of your voice he was turning around on his chair. “Yeah, baby?”
“Wanna go out tonight? We are going to a club.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” he pushed the headphones off his head to rest on his shoulders. “I have this boring business dinner later.”
“Okay then.”
“Why don’t you come over and stay with Monie?” he countered, pushing back against his flexible chair to stretch his long limbs. “So I’ll have a reason to rush home after dinner.”
The old lady in you wanted to agree to that, but you hadn’t gone out to a club in so long; plus Tae’s crowd was usually really fun.
“I already told Tae I’d go with him.” you pouted.
The chair creaked with the harsh movement as Namjoon asked: “Taehyung? Is it only you two? Will his boyfriend be there? Or Jimin?”
You giggled at all of his questions, picking up a green coloring pencil to fix a spot on your sketch. “Jimin is going out with Yoongi. Funny that he doesn’t need to be at that boring work dinner.”
“That’s my part of the job.”
“And Jk has boxing practice tomorrow.”
“So it’s just you and Taehyung?” he pushed. And, frankly, you didn’t like his tone.
“Problem?”
Yeah. “No, of course not. You have every right to do whatever you want.”
Namjoon was absolutely right, you did have every right to do what you pleased. But you didn’t like his borderline challenging tone. It would have been so much easier if he told you it would bother him if you were going to a club with Taehyung. Then you could assure him that more of his friends would be going, and that he had no reason to worry.
But the way he said it made you want to act out on purpose. If he was so bothered about the possibilities of something happening between you and Taehyung, then he should do something about it. But so far he hasn’t.
You turned your focus to your work, changing colors and drawing away, all while you could feel Namjoon’s gaze boring into you. If he was about to say something else, he was cut off by the knocking on his door.
“Can you get that?” he asked you, since you were closer.
“Yes, sir.”
You crawled the couple meters to the door, not bothering to get up as you pulled down the doorknob to open the studio to whoever it was that was visiting Rkive.
“Already on your knees for me?” Hoseok was laughing as he saw you there in that position.
“Hi, Hobito.” you smiled brightly, accepting his hand to help you up and pull you into a tight hug. “Come in.”
“I’m not interrupting anything, right?”
He wanted to make sure, since Namjoon’s jaw was clenched and he looked a little annoyed. But you were shaking your head as you walked back to your spot by the center table.
“And how’s my favorite little stylist?” Hoseok sat down on the couch behind you, watching you draw away over your shoulder.
You giggled in response, and if you were just a little sweeter, no one said anything. “I’m good.”
“That’s not for Seokjin hyung, right? Not that I don’t think he can pull off a dress.”
“No, that’s for the exposition at her university at the end of the month.” Namjoon told him in a matter of factly tone, as if him having that knowledge gave him Yn points.
And Hoseok noticed it too, so he ignored his friend.
“Are you excited for next week?” he asked while pressing the back of your neck in a massage that made you close your eyes.
“I’m buzzing! Very nervous too, but good nervous, I think.”
For the past week you had been working on finding, choosing and buying –with Cypher’s company card– the pieces you thought would look cool and match Seokjin and the music video for his new single.
The actual filming was happening next week, and you were super excited to be a part of it. Even more since Jungkook would be there working too.
“Are you going to the business dinner too, Hobi?” you asked while turning around to face him, chin resting on his knee. “I’m going to a club tonight, if you wanna join."
Namjoon was watching the bittersweet exchange. On one hand it warmed his heart to see you so close to his best friend. On the other, he wondered just how or when you had gotten so close to him in the first place.
He wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you and his hyung, but right now he was feeling a little left out.
"Sorry, pretty girl. Next time though, yeah?” Hoseok pinched the tip of your nose, making you scrunch it cutely. “Got a date tonight.”
“With that girl you were telling me about? The one with the nice tits?” you did your best not to cringe at your words, wondering if it was obvious you were trying to appease your audience. Hoseok laughed, but nodded. “Well, if you get bored or want to bring her, we’ll be at Burn in Itaewon."
"Noted."
Namjoon’s chair creaked again, on purpose this time; his way of getting attention.
"Do you actually need anything, hyung?"
"Nah, Yoongi said you had the pretty girl in the studio and I came to say hi."
"Hi.” you giggled, batting your pretty eyes at the hyung.
“Well, you said hi, now I need to work, please."
Hoseok and you exchanged amused glances and the man left a kiss to the top of your head before getting up.
"Good luck with your date tonight!"
"Thanks, you too.” he teased on his way out the door. “Bye, Joonah.”
Namjoon seemed to visibly relax when it was just the two of you in the room again. But instead of going back to work like he said, Namjoon got up and walked the few steps to reach the couch.
You turned around to get back to your work, pretending to think really hard about which colors you’d use next.
“How’s the inspiration going, little one?”
It was more than unfair the way he managed to melt you with simple words and a soft tone. It didn’t help that you understood his past traumas and his reasons for jealousy, but at least you could see he was trying to break out of them.
“Really good.”
“Yeah?” his hands were on your shoulders as he tried to see better.
“I guess your studio is really inspiring.” you leaned back against the edge of the couch, between his legs.
“I’m glad to hear that. You’re welcome here at any time.”
Namjoon pressed on your shoulders, wanting to relieve some of the tension he could feel under his fingertips. He nosed at your hair, smelling your strawberry and lily shampoo. He was ready to ask you if you’d like him to come meet you at the club after the dinner, since it wasn’t supposed to last that long anyway, when the beeping at his door made him pause.
Not many people knew his code, one he had been meaning to change for a couple months now, but it always slipped his mind. He just hoped to God it wasn’t–
“God, I thought Hoseok would never leave.”
Aecha was opening Namjoon’s studio door without knocking, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. All of the calm he had managed to install within you flew out that same door. The woman was clearly very surprised to see you there too.
“What are you doing here?” you asked before you could check yourself.
“I work here.” she said, delighted with your surprise. And to put the nail on the coffin, she repeated your own words from before: “You’re the one who keeps showing up.”
“What to you want, Ms. Lee?”
Namjoon asked her, and you had never heard him sounding so cold. It wasn’t enough to calm your racing heart or your trembling hands as you picked up your spread coloring pencils and papers.
“I have this contract for you to look over, Mr. Kim.” the jaunty way in which she said the words was annoyingly suggestive. “And I have to say, this studio used to be better frequented.”
“Who I have inside my studio is my problem, don’t forget that I’m still your boss.”
Namjoon was standing up now, trying to block you from her view.
“Okay, Mr. Boss Man.” Aecha pressed the folder she was holding into his chest. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner.”
The woman left, and with her went the air from your lungs. Namjoon was breathing heavily, as if to calm himself, and you finished shoving your things inside your backpack in a rushed and careless manner.
“I’m sorry about– Where are you going?”
“You hired your ex?” was all you said.
You wanted to follow it up with: After all she’s done to you? After all she continues to do to you? After telling me there was nothing there? How was he expecting to heal from her abuse and mind games if he was seeing her everyday?
“It’s more complicated than that.” Namjoon sighed.
“And you’re going to dinner with her tonight?”
“It’s not dinner with her, there will be more people there.”
He tried to make it make sense to you, and you might understand it if you let him get two sentences in.
“She’s your ex isn’t that against some kind of corporate rule?”
“At least I’m not going to a club with her.”
It slipped out before Namjoon could hold back the words. But when he felt cornered, he ended up saying things he didn’t mean. And he desperately wanted to take the spotlight off of him.
“Is that how you want to be?” you asked, defensive.
“You started it.” he said it like a child who ran out of comebacks.
“Yeah, and I’m also ending it.” you picked up your backpack and slung it over your shoulder. “Goodbye, Namjoon.”
You passed by him, bumping your shoulder into his as you reached for the door. Namjoon wanted to go after you, make you listen, talk it through. But you were both hot headed right now, both had enough on your plates. It wouldn’t do either of you any good to continue this right now.
DECEMBER 3RD | 22:12
Taehyung was usually surrounded by a big group of people. And if he didn’t go somewhere with an ensemble, he met them while waiting in line, on the dance floor, by the bar; once you even saw him leaving a club bathroom with a new best friend! In your years of friendship you had met so many new people through and because of him.
And they were always a little weird, but so much fun.
You usually liked to hop from group to group with him, laughing at his clownery and weird antics that just made him who he was.
But not tonight.
You were feeling a little left out. The whole thing with Joon and Aecha had hours to sink in with you and it could have gone one of two ways:
You could be understanding, as you always were, and call him to make sure things were okay between you. Let him explain, or at least make up excuses. Could let it slide that he was always acting a little jealous when it came to you and other boys, but the second you turned it on him, he acted out.
You could get over the fact that you weren’t together, not by a long shot; partially through a fault of your own, since you had decided not to confess. You were still in a Sugar Baby/Sugar Daddy arrangement that made you both free to do whatever you wanted. You could go to a club with your ex, and he could go to dinner with his, hire her to work alongside him, give her the password to his studio, and not tell you anything about it.
It was safe to say you had gone with the second option, accepting the feminine urge to act a little petty. As you stumbled into the club after waiting too long out in the cold, already regretting having drank half a bottle of Soju during the pregame at Sohee’s place, you grabbed Taehyung by his arm, pulling him closer to you.
“Tae, will you stay with me tonight?” you were saying to his ear, lips ghosting his tanned skin to be heard over the blaring music.
“Of course.” he agreed with a smile, arm instantly finding your waist. He threw a look over his shoulder as he regarded two girls he had met in the line to get in. “You heard her, ladies.”
Both girls pouted and groaned, and you giggled. You could have told them you weren’t asking for a hookup, could have said you just needed your friend to look after you and then send you home safely whenever you grew tired. Then he would be free to go home with whoever he liked.
But you needed to feel like a priority, at least for a few hours, so you liked the way Taehyung didn’t even think twice about accepting your request and focusing his attention on you.
“We’re going to get a drink, you coming?” Wooshik, one of Tae’s classmates and close friend, called for you.
“You’re offering?” you asked as you were led to the bar by the man stuck to your back.
“If he isn’t, I will.” Taehyung was saying with his lips to your ear, much like you had done.
“Aww, you don’t have to pay for me, Tae.”
“Why do you say that to him, but always make me pay?” Wooshik was looking a little offended.
“Don’t pretend you aren’t loaded, hyung.” Tae laughed, the rumbling of his chest warming up your heart.
Minsu and Sohee were already slipping to the dance floor; you knew the girls from passing, both art students like Tae and Wooshik, and you vaguely recollected a comment about them working at a tattoo shop in Myeongdong. Seojoon and Hyungsik were seniors in the performing arts course.
You leaned over the counter of the bar, as the only girl remaining in the small group, it was usually easier for you to catch the attention of the barman. On a good day it would annoy you and you’d refuse to be part of the disgusting men agenda, but you could already feel the effects of the Soju running out.
“Two shots of tequila, please!”
You ordered first, having all three boys shouting their orders before the guy could walk too far.
“You okay, babe?” Taehyung asked you, arm still on your waist.
If this was happening a month ago you would have melted, but right now you just missed the extra weight around you.
“Yeah, I’m great.” you forced a smile on your red colored lips. “Why?”
“Don’t lie to me.” Tae said as you turned around in his embrace, back resting against the bar counter as his body leaned closer to your as more patrons crowded the bar. “You only drink tequila when you want to forget or fuck it up.”
“You think you know me so well, don’t you?” your fingertip traced the ugly colorful patterns on his shirt. It was an eyesore, but somehow he made it work.
“I know you more than you think.” he left a kiss on your forehead. This was your friend Tae, not your ex, not your occasional hook up. “Where’s the bodyguard? Didn’t want to come?”
You shook your head, not really in the mood to talk about Namjoon. Tae pinched your cheek and gave you a tight hug, only letting go of you when the busy bartender came back with your drinks.
The two shots of tequila turned into four, that turned into sips and chugs of whatever the other boys were drinking and offered to you. When you were positively buzzing, brain a little foggy and your legs threatened to give out, you pulled Tae by the collar and said:
“I’m gonna go dance with the girls, yeah?”
“Don’t you wanna have some water first?” he countered, but you shook your head. “Stay in my line of sight.”
“Okay, dad!”
It should have been a joke. You should have laughed at it, just as he had. But it only brought a bitter taste to your mouth and a pang to your stomach. You walked away from a smiley Tae, balancing yourself on your heels and bumping into people more intoxicated than you were.
Minsu and Sohee opened up space for you to dance closer to them and away from any dingy strangers. The dance floor was packed with sweaty bodies, the DJ was playing throwback songs all night, the kind that everybody knew the moves to; like PSY’s Gangnam Style and Super Junior’s Sorry Sorry.
As Gee played loudly from the many speakers spread around, you moved your body to the upbeat song. You felt light and airy, thanks to the alcohol you had consumed. You thought that drinking tonight would help you forget, but all it was doing was making you miss the one person you didn’t want to think about tonight.
The thump of the bass brought back memories from when you met Namjoon, months ago, in a setting similar to this. It was just supposed to be a one time thing; you’d be a Sugar Baby for the night, use the earned money to pay for the first month of your university’s fee and move on.
Yet here you were, tangled up, body and soul belonging to a man you hadn’t decided if deserved it or not. As you closed your eyes and threw your head back to the song, it was Namjoon’s beautiful face and adorable dimpled smile that you saw. When you opened them back up, you searched for him in every tall man in the room. You looked at the door, drunk brain wishing to see him walking in.
But of course he never did.
“Hey, what’s up with you and Tae?” Minsu was asking you. You always thought she had a crush on the man.
“We’re friends.” you told her, slightly slurred speech. “Why?”
“You’re friends like he and Jungkook are?” Sohee laughed.
“He doesn’t have eyes for anything else when you’re around.” Minsu explained.
You looked around, finding Taehyung still by the bar. He had a glass in his hand, but his eyes were on you. You did ask him to take care of you tonight, so he was only looking out for you. At least that’s what you thought until his eyebrow raised and he licked his lips.
Well. Since forgetting on your own obviously wasn’t working, maybe you should try it with a little help.
A giggle slipped past your lips as your pointer finger beaconed him over. Taehyung flipped the rest of his drink into his mouth, pulling an exaggerated face, and marched over to you in the rhythm of Rain’s Rainism.
Tae bumped into you on purpose, making you lose your balance and hold yourself by clinging to his shoulders as he held you strongly by arms around your waist. You were laughing, but stopped short when his face went to your neck and he licked a stripe of your sweaty skin.
Your hand tangled in his long curly locks, pulling him back so you could clash your lips against his. It was rare that you started a kiss, but tonight you needed it. Taehyung reciprocated it with fervor and a little desperation, always greedy for whatever you were willing to give him.
DECEMBER 4RTH | 02:01
Namjoon couldn’t sleep. Guilt had been eating him up all night, so he had given up on trying to fall into a slumber when the clock hit midnight and he was accomplishing nothing but tossing and turning in his cold and empty mattress.
The business dinner had been annoying, with the way Aecha forced herself into the seat next to him and kept attempting to hold his hand, to touch his thigh under the table, and being overall obnoxiously sweet in an attempt to butter him up. In the past that would have been enough to have them rolling in the sheets by the end of the night, and after they were done, she wouldn’t even wait for the morning to break his heart all over again.
But tonight all it made him feel was disgust and anger. It was supposed to be a professional setting, one where he should be talking business with investors, telling them about the growth Cypher had the last six months and talking about future plans.
Not to mention that, if it wasn’t for the woman, he would still know where you and him stood. You wouldn’t be upset and he wouldn’t be worried about you being out there in a club. It’s not even that he was bothered by you being out with Taehyung either, Namjoon was mature enough to understand you didn’t technically owe him anything. He had given up the exclusivity when he put his plans of confessing to you on the back burner.
A decision he was starting to regret.
The thing that was staining his thoughts with guilt is that he knew this could have been avoided. Namjoon could have told you about Aecha having to work for Cypher Prod., explained it wasn’t something he actually had a say in, he could have remembered to change the password to avoid her just barging in, he could have defended you better, he could have told you she would be part of the dinner tonight because taking notes was part of her job.
Namjoon knew how this all looked, so he didn’t blame you for walking out of his studio, nor for anything you might choose to do tonight.
He was sitting in bed, with his latest book on his lap, reading the same page over and over again because he couldn’t concentrate, when his phone dinged with your notification sound.
You [02:03]: I hate you ;((((((
You [02:03]: You knwo I was dncing wth tae and we were kissing bc I CAN and you were hving dinner wit your gorgus ex
You [02:04]: But I cant stop fckijg thinkng about you 1!!11!!! Why!!!!!! I jus want you
You [02:04]: Ugh wish u were here to fck me in the bathroom
You were clearly drunk in your texts, never one to leave any typos in. Not to mention the context of the messages. It was rollercoaster of informations, since the knowledge that you had kissed Taehyung again brought an uncomfortable clench to his heart. Yet the way you ended the shower of texts saying he was the one you actually wanted helped alleviate his jealousy.
But the texts continued:
You [02:06]: Why cant things be easy joonie why
You [02:06]: Ugh i wont even rember this in the mrng lol
You [02:06]: Opsie I cnt find my friends
You [02:07]: Theres a guy loking over maybe he saw my frinds
With a worried sigh, Namjoon left his bed. He was already texting his driver, uncaring for the late hour, as he looked for sweatpants and a hoodie to wear. Picking up his wallet on the way out, he was satisfied that Mr. Choi answered almost immediately saying he’d be coming over and would arrive in five minutes.
The man would definitely be getting a hefty Christmas bonus.
Namjoon wouldn’t be going after you if he didn’t think you could potentially be in some kind of danger, and texting or calling you to make sure didn’t sound like the best idea either.
Exactly five minutes later, Namjoon was slipping in the backseat of his car, telling Mr. Choi to drive to Burn Nightclub in Itaewon.
“Forgive me for the intrusion, sir, but you don’t look dressed for a night out.”
Namjoon chuckled, because he agreed. Gray sweatpants and a mismatched hoodie didn’t scream party-goer.
“We’re just picking someone up.”
“Is it your lady friend?” the nice old man looked at Namjoon through the rearview mirror, with a friendly, albeit sleepy, smile. “Miss Yn?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” the driver was saying as he followed the car GPS towards their destination. “I like that girl. She’s very nice.”
“That she is, Mr. Choi.” Namjoon kept checking his phone, but you didn’t send anything else.
He didn’t want to think about the possibility of you not being at that club anymore. Or even at all, in case your plans had changed earlier in the night and you ended up going somewhere else entirely.
“Can I offer you a piece of free advice?” the driver asked and Namjoon hummed in response. “You should keep her. She’s a nice girl. I know this isn’t my place but I’ve been driving for you for many years and I’ve never seen you so happy.”
“Even if you have to get out of bed at two am to go pick her up?” he laughed with slight amusement.
“Miss Yn always treated me with kindness. Did you know she always has coffee and pastries for me when I’m sent to pick her up for you?” Mr. Choi told him, and Namjoon had no idea. “That other lady you almost married didn’t even look me in the eye. So I don’t mind the late drive.”
Namjoon hummed, mind filled with thoughts of you.
The streets were almost empty, even in the Itaewon district. Mr. Choi found a free spot to park and turned the hazard lights on to inform other drivers that he wouldn’t stay there long. Namjoon was rushing off the car and into the night club.
He received weird looks for his attire, but pulling on the sleeve of his hoodie to look at the time while simultaneously flashing his Rolex seemed to do the trick. He was let into Burn after paying an absurdly high fee.
The inside of the club didn’t match the outside. While the streets were cold and barren, the inside was warm and busy. Drunk people everywhere, having the time of their lives, dancing as if there was no tomorrow. His height allowed him to see above most people as he scanned the dance floor in hopes to find you there.
Namjoon wasn’t having much luck, until a tap to his shoulder made him turn around.
“So you did show up, huh?” Taehyung had a blonde girl under his arm, both with red bitten lips that made it obvious what they had been doing. “She’s been asking for you. Come.”
Namjoon didn’t say anything as he followed Taehyung past the dance floor and the bar, eyes scanning the sitting area for you. He found you easily once he knew where to look, sitting between two girls, and with a jacket too big to be yours draped over your shoulders. Your eyes were sparkling and you looked so sad.
“How’s the sweet girl doing?” Taehyung asked the girls.
“She’s been asking for her dad?” the one with colorful hair looked confused as can be.
Namjoon held back a laugh, knowing exactly who you had been asking for. He watched as Taehyung let go of the blonde girl to crouch down in front of you, a hand caressing your face with more gentleness than he expected. The boy was saying something to you and your face lifted, gaze lost until it found him.
You were getting up from the couch, letting the jacket fall off your shoulders, as you walked to Namjoon. He opened his arms for you, not letting you see the twist of his nose with the heavy scent of alcohol and smoke that was stuck to your skin and clothes.
“Are you really here?” you murmured against his chest, his ears straining to hear you.
“Yeah. Let’s get you home.”
“Nooooo, I don’t want to go.” you pouted, but squeezed him harder.
“I’m not asking you, baby.”
Namjoon hadn’t seen you drunk that many times, but the little instances that he did, he picked up a thing or two about how to deal with you. Your pouty and bratty side came out to play, one he knew how to handle.
“Say goodbye to your friends and let’s go.” Namjoon instructed. “Mr. Choi is waiting outside.”
“In the cold?” your pretty eyes blinked with concern, a deep crease forming on your forehead.
“He’s warm in the car.” he told you, watching you nod and wave to the people you had come with. “Where’s your coat?”
“Didn’t bring one.” you shrugged exaggeratedly.
It was minus three degrees outside and you were dressed in a short, sleeveless dress. Namjoon wanted to nag you for being so careless, but now was not the time. Instead, he removed his hoodie and dressed you with it, ignoring the ‘whoops’ and ‘wows’ he heard while revealing his tight cotton t-shirt. He wouldn’t mind the cold as long as you were warm.
“Tell her to text when she’s home.” Taehyung asked.
But Namjoon didn’t answer. You’d have more pending matters once you arrived home; like sobering up, for starters. He held you closely against his body, pulling your tumbling body out of the club and onto the streets.
Mr. Choi had moved the car closer to the entrance of the club, so the two of you were able to slip to the back seat before either of you froze in the cold weather.
“Good morning, Miss Yn.” Mr. Choi was saying with a smile.
“Hi.” you waved with heavily blinking eyes.
“Where to, sir?”
“Bring us to the penthouse. After you drop us off you can keep the car over the weekend, and we’ll see you again on monday.” Namjoon instructed. “Take the family for a ride.”
“There’s no need for that, sir–”
“I insist.”
The driver thanked him with a nod and got back onto the street to drive the two of you home. As Namjoon looked you over, he noticed your tightly crossed arms and pushed out bottom lip.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m still mad at you.” you were saying with half slitted eyes.
“Good, because I’m mad at you too.”
You gasped and stared at him in absolute shock. High pitched voice as you said: “What are you mad at me for?!”
“Going out without proper winter clothes? Getting lost from your friends and worrying me? Hooking up with your ex?”
Quietly, as the car stopped at a red light, Mr. Choi turned around to pull the flimsy curtain that separated the front seats from the back of the car to give you the false impression of privacy.
“Well, I wouldn’t need to hook up with my ex if you had been there!”
“You know I couldn’t be there.”
“Yeah, because you were with your ex!”
Namjoon took a deep breath, he knew this was pointless. Your words were slurring together and you wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. He had apologies ready to offer you, but he wouldn’t waste them on deaf ears.
The car fell into a deep silence that felt like ages, but it couldn’t have been five minutes until you spoke again. Softer this time.
“For the record, I don’t want Tae.”
“I don’t want Aecha either.”
Another beat of silence passed until you turned sideways on the seat, pout heavy on your lips.
“Then prove it.” you challenged.
You were trying to seem so serious, so menacing. But Namjoon just thought you looked adorable. Red cheeks, sleepy eyes, wobbly bottom lip. You might just be the cutest thing he had ever seen. A little sparkle around your neck brought his eyes down, noticing the necklace he had given you in New York was still resting on your collarbone.
Even while mad at him, you never took it off.
“How do I prove it, baby?”
You tapped your chin, thinking hard about your options. “Fuck me right here, right now.”
Mr. Choi started coughing from the front seat and Namjoon went absolutely red in the face. You didn’t waver, a challenging lift to your eyebrow.
“I can’t do that right now.” Namjoon tried reasoning with you. “Let’s get home and we’ll talk about it, yeah?”
“I knew it.”
You turned away from him again, your side profile being illuminated by the warm yellow lights from the lamp posts outside. You were so beautiful to him, so precious. Even without knowing it, you gave him the push he needed to want to fix himself, to be a better man. Firstly, you made him want to be better for him. You were showing him how he deserved to be treated, the kind of happiness he should strive to have.
But you also made him want to be better for you.
Namjoon didn’t want you to be mad at him, rightfully so or not. He also couldn’t give you what you wanted right now, not with Mr. Choi in the car. But he could try something.
He slid closer to you, pushing your hair away from your neck. You didn’t move, still ignoring him. Namjoon bent down to reach the side of your face, kissing your jaw, under your ear, moving down to your neck. His hand rested on your naked leg, fingertips dancing on the inside of your thigh.
Your breathing grew heavy, lips parting with a pant as you melted into the seat.
“Don’t be like this, babygirl.” he said against your warm skin, lips sucking on the spot under your ear.
“Please–”
“Shhhh. Be quiet for daddy.”
He was whispering, hand slipping between your legs and under your dress. You covered your red stained lips with small hands, parting your knees for him. Namjoon gently ran his fingertips over your clothed core, applying light pressure.
"When we get home, I’ll take care of you."
"Promise?” you whispered.
“Did daddy ever lie to you?"
You were shaking your head. Namjoon had never lied to you. He might have omitted a few things, but never lie.
The view outside showed the car was already driving up his street, the speed decreasing to a stop. Namjoon pressed harder over your clit just to tease you a little more before removing his hand completely.
"Ern… Sir, Miss.” Mr. Choi called, a little chocked up. “You’re home.”
“Thanks. Have a good weekend, okay? Get home safe."
Namjoon opened your door from the inside, tapping on your legs for you to get out of the car and followed after you. You were still a little wobbly walking up the steps to the lobby, but Namjoon held you steady.
The moment the doors to the elevators were closing, you were all over him. Uncaring for the cameras you started kissing his neck and grabbing for his shirt before he could even press the button to the penthouse.
He laughed while holding your hands to your back, halting your attack.
"You promised!” the little horny drunk that you were protested.
“Yes I did, but we’re not home yet, are we?"
You seemed to think hard about that, looking around yourself and finally calming down.
When Namjoon unlocked the door with his thumbprint, you were already trying to climb him like a tree again. He had to laugh at your desperation and clumsiness, almost tripping over an excited Monie and eyes filling with tears when you thought you might have hurt him.
Namjoon started leading you to his bedroom, returning your kisses as best as he could while trying to walk you into the bathroom. He was on his knees as soon as the door closed behind you, kissing the tops of your thighs as he undid the clasps of your shoes from your ankles.
You groaned in relief as your aching feet rested flat on the cold floor, busying yourself with removing his hoodie and letting your purse fall to the floor with a careless thump.
Namjoon was kissing your neck as his able hands looked for the zipper on your back to remove your dress.
Your panties and strapless bra went right after.
He had you so focused on his hands and kisses that you didn’t notice he was walking you backwards into the shower. Nor did you realize Namjoon flipped on the knob to turn the water on, pulling away at the last second to avoid getting hit while he still had his clothes on.
You squealed with the cold temperature of the water hitting your body. As you tried to escape and flee the shower stall, Namjoon held the glass door in place.
"Joon!” you whined your displeasure. “You promised!”
“I promised I would take care of you, and I am!” he held back a laugh. “I’m not fucking you until you’re sober, baby.”
“You’re no fun, drunk sex is great.” you crossed your arms and Namjoon had to look away from the way your tits were pressed together.
And he had to agree, drunk sex was a lot of fun. But not when you still had issues to talk through.
“Just have a cold shower and come meet me in the kitchen when you feel a little more sober.”
“Have I told you I hate you?” you asked with yet another pretty pout.
“At least twice now.”
Namjoon gave you a pointed look when he let go of the shower door, holding back a fond smile from how annoyed you looked. You showed him your tongue like a child and he laughed.
DECEMBER 4RTH | 03:59
Raiding Namjoon’s closet for a shirt sounded like a better idea than going into your room in the penthouse to find something to wear. You didn’t feel completely like yourself yet, but your head was in the right place. Enough for you to be extremely embarrassed about your earlier behavior.
As you walked into the kitchen, per Namjoon’s request, you weren’t sure what you were going to find. He had every right to be mad at you, he had left the comfort of his home in the middle of the night to pick up a brat from a club across town because you missed him but was too hard headed to admit it. Not to mention everything else.
But what greeted you was a dimpled smile and a glass of water.
“Feeling better?”
“I’ll tell you in the morning.” you laughed without any real humor, taking long sips of the first drink you had tonight that didn’t burn on the way down. “What’s that?”
“Toast and cheese.”
Namjoon pushed the plate towards you as you sat down on a stall by the kitchen island.
“You cooked for me.” your smile was sincere and bright, as his cheeks turned pink. “Like, you actually cooked.”
“That is hardly a Michelin.”
“It’s better, because you made it.”
You looked down as you said it, picking up the toast and taking a small bite to the corner. You did feel a little hungry, and this would definitely help with your inescapable hangover tomorrow. But chucking it in at once would only make you sick. And you were really good at holding your liquor, but today wasn’t the night you wanted to test that.
Namjoon crossed the island to come closer to you. He pulled your wet hair back so it wouldn’t fall on your plate and kissed the crown of your head before sitting down next to you. You were eating slowly as he watched you intently. His finger slipped under the chain around your neck to lift it from the inside of your shirt –his shirt–, so now the diamond heart would be on show.
“We should talk.” at least he had the decency to wait for you to swallow your last bite.
After washing down the food with the rest of the water you said, in a small voice: “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? I’m the one who needs to apologize.” Namjoon’s forehead creased.
“You can, just let me say something first?” you turned around on the bench so you could look at him as you spoke. “It’s not fair that I get upset with you about something, and then go ahead and do the exact thing.” you sighed, playing with your fingers on your lap. “I know we’re not together, this is just an arrangement. You have every right to
♔Summary: Hubby wants a special treat before going to work.
Your eyes opened early in the morning of a very typical Tuesday, sun rays filtering through the curtains, birds singing outside the window, the comforting repetitive sound of the air conditioner, mundane and routinary. As always you woke up first, your husband sleeping figure was just besides you, he liked to sleep on his stomach, and with his arm above you, he had to have any sort of contact with you when he sleeps, he needed to feel you besides him, so as the lucky girl you were, you got to see him as the first thing in the morning.
You work at home and Namjoon work as researcher in a lab, so he got up to work Monday to Friday, you shape your routine around his as the team you were, so you got up early to prepare coffee and breakfast so he can get ready for work, then you walk the dogs, take a shower and start with your own work and so on and so forth.
You slide Namjoon’s arm from your body, he seemed so tired, an important paper was about to be published and he and his team were working extra hours the entire weekend and yesterday, you didn’t mind, you like how passionate Namjoon was about his career and you support him 100%, he also made good money, and you knew this paper would end up paying for your Bali holiday this summer, sacrifices needed to be made. You knew your husband though, poor Joonie probably felt guilty no giving you much attention these days, he can recover the time lost when you two were at the beautiful beaches of Indonesia.
You got off the bed and went to the bathroom to wash up, when you open the door your husband was calling for you in bed, his groggy grin and half open eyes that gave you that look. The lustful look that meant he wanted you, so early but already eager for your touch.
“Morning” he said with raspy voice, you gave him a smile.
“Morning, Baby” you responded getting on the bed, he put you immediately on his lap with his strong arms, you felt his erection on your core sending a familiar twist to your lower stomach, your pussy already clenching for his dick.
“I want you” he simply said “I’d been turning crazy for the past days, only thing in my mind was my hot wife” he confessed getting rid of the hoodie, leaving his chest exposed, you licked your lips.
“Same babe, I know you’d been busy, so when I needed you I had to conform with my trustworthy Charlie” that’s the name you both gave to your vibrator, you had it before meeting Namjoon and now you two used it when you wanted some spice in the bedroom, or when Namjoon was very busy though you did not tell him, for some reason he did not like it that much when he wasn’t the one to use it on you.
“Oh no sweetheart, I’ve been that neglectful?” he said frowning “I need to take care of you asap” he said grabbing your ass under your satin nightgown, his hands squishing your flesh made you moan.
“Not neglectful, I’m just needy all the time” you took your panties of leaving nightgown on.
“And I love that about you” he took his sweatpants and underwear off. “It’s my duty to satisfy you, not that pesky toy, when you need me you call me, ok my love?” his cock was out but half erected, you could not resist to take it and give it some strokes, Namjoon moaned in a low tone.
“Yes, understood…fuck-“ you moaned when you felt his finger behind you introduced in your pussy “like that” he started to stimulate your clit.
“You are so beautiful” he said to you heavy breathing “Kiss me” he begged, you took his face with one hand and lean to kiss him, his hot tongue sliding to your mouth, you moaned again, you felt his cock twitching in your thigh, that’s what you love about Namjoon, he was whipped for your touch and your body, you always felt his excitement every single time, he could never get enough of you.
He took his finger out, you were wet already, before he fingered you, you also missed his touch, you were starved for him.
“I want your cock inside me, right now” you pleaded.
“Fuck, sweetheart” he cursed “You are perfect for me, you know that?” you squirmed at the clit stimulation “You wanna ride me today, huh?” you nodded and whined when he took his dick and placed it on your entrance, stimulating you as well as teasing you.
“Daddy please” you begged, you saw his smile while he guided you hips until were fully seated in his cock, he moaned at the sensation of your walls wrapping around his swollen dick.
“I’m sensible today, sweetheart” he said already worked up, you started moving, rolling your hips like a maniac, you wanted to feel every inch as you jump like bunny in heat, he could not repress the sound that his mouth made, the sounds of pleasure.
“Fuck daddy, you cock feels so good” you fasten your pace.
“Is it baby?” he replied grabbing your hips “I’m gonna cream all over your cunt and fill you up, you like that?”
“Fuck yes” you were feeling your orgasm arriving, and for the way Namjoon’s body was tensing, you knew he was close too. ”I’m gonna cum” you said to him.
“Let’s cum together, princess” he guided your hips at a more desperate pace until you finally had an orgasm, his hot seed filled your cunt and waves of pleasure travelled to your body, pure bliss on your faces.
You both laid there, you still on top of Namjoon for a few minutes, until you got off of him gaining a little protest.
“You have to go to work, and I’m starving” you said to him “But we can take a shower together”
“Deal”
After a quick shower, he got ready putting on his suit, your husband without doubt was hottie, you still drool over his athletic tall physique, and him in a suit was the next best thing only topped by him naked. You cooked the breakfast and you both eat talking about things you enjoy, everything was on a very good mood, sadly he had to go.
“Have a great day” you peck his lips, but he deepens the kiss and you gladly responded.
“I love you so much” he said giving you a small peck at the end.
“Love you too” but before he left he got near your ear and whispered:
“Daddy’s is gonna take care of you all night afterwork, you gotta be patient, no toys, no touching otherwise you would punish, understood?”
“This Alfredo is so good.” I shoved more food into my mouth. My boyfriend of two years, Namjoon, laughed at me. We were at a Italian restaurant for a date. He reached over and grabbed my chin and wiped the sauce from the Alfredo off the corners of my mouth. After he retreated back to his seat I looked down and avoided eye contact with him.
“Awh is my baby blushing?” Namjoon teased.
“S-shut up.” I stumbled with my words.
Namjoon got out his seat and pushed mines back, grabbing my hands to pull me out the chair. We walked through the building with velvet walls and dimmed lights with candles on each table. We got outside to a balcony.
“It’s cold out here Nam.”
I turned back around to go back inside but he wrapped me in a hug. He wrapped some of his jacket around me and I breathed out in delight as my face was resting on his warm chest. He rocked us from side to side lightly. I looked up at him and smiled at his face illuminating off the moonlight. I kissed his cheek and then his lips. He kissed me even harder and I pulled away.
“Now you have lipstick on your lips.” I giggled and tried to wipe it off with my thumb.
Namjoon’s phone started to go off and I pulled away for him to get it. He looked at the screen and hesitated to answer but he did at the end. He held up a finger as he stepped back into the restaurant.
That was 5 weeks ago.
“Joonie don’t you want to order pizza and then maybe watch cartoons and have cuddles that will lead to a fucking session?” I asked with a cheeky grin.
His eyes was still glued to that damn phone. He was typing away and I poked his arm. He looked up, “Yeah?”
I scoffed, “You didn’t even hear a word I just said.” I pouted.
“I’m sorry baby,” He scoped me in his arms and kissed my lips. “We can do whatever you want.”
“I want you to fuck me.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder with an innocent smiled.
His eyes went wide for a second before he snapped back into his perverted mind. He layed me underneath him on the bed and started to kiss me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. I pushed my tongue in his mouth while his hand went under my thin tank top. I jumped when his phone started to go off again for the 4th time today while we been together. It hasn’t even been two hours yet.
Namjoon reached over to grab his phone and I looked at him like he was the dumbest guy alive. Was he serious? I pushed him off me and stormed out the room to the bathroom. Must’ve been his manager.
That was 4 weeks ago.
I haven’t had a moment with him to myself in weeks now.
I was off to my best friend’s house to chill since Namjoon was stuck in the studio again for the third time this week. I didn’t argue when he blew me off since I know how much his work means to him. I don’t want to be that needy girlfriend that boys hate. I was chill and I respect his work ethic.
“You should’ve called me an hour in advance.” My friend Alice tightened her robe as she let me in her house.
“Sorry, didn’t know you’ll be doing that nasty stuff.” I laughed at her.
She giggled and told me to wait while she went to get properly dressed. I flopped on the long couch as if this was a second home to me; actually it was. The smell of an expensive candle that was burning on the glass table in the middle of the living room came to my nose. I mentally checked myself to steal one of her candles before I left.
“Girl if you don’t get off my couch like that.” She came back in with a hoodie that obviously wasn’t hers, seeing how big it was on her.
I flicked her off and continued to lay on her couch while she sat on the chair that was opposite of me.
“So what’s up?”
“Nothing much, I was bored and Namjoon is in the studio still so yeah.” I sat up and took off my shoes.
Alice nodded but after a second her eyebrows started to scrunch up, leaving a confused expression on her face. “He’s always in that studio, he’s sounds like Yoongi now.”
I laughed, “Yeah he does doesn’t he?”
She nodded and eyed me. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it back with a shake of her head. Now I was confused.
“What is it?” I spoke up.
She hesitated before giving an answer, “It’s just…when’s the last time you two hung out?”
“Umm..,” I kept thinking over these last 3 weeks and strange enough me and my boyfriend hasn’t really hung out once. “I don’t know honestly.”
“Oh…” She bit her lip and quickly placed a smile on her face. “Want some tea?” Alice got out her seat and rushed to the kitchen without even getting an answer from me.
I frowned, something was off with her. She was hiding something from me. I fiddled with my fingers and thought about her question over in my head again. Why hasn’t me and my OWN boyfriend at least went out a date or something in 3 whole weeks? That’s almost a month! I slumped in my seat and the thoughts i didn’t even want to think started to invade my mind. Alice came back with the tea and my favorite mug she always let me use when I came over here. She handed me the tea with a sympathetic smile.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” I looked at my best friend with a hundred worries in my eyes.
She looked down at her mug and back up at me, “You know me and you are basically blood sister’s right?”
I nodded timidly, fearing the worse.
“Well as your sister I feel like I should tell you I feel weird about you and Namjoon’s relationship right now.”
My mouth got dry and I felt like I knew what she was about to suspect.
“Like what?” The words came out crokey, my throat suddenly hurting.
She placed her mug down on the table and pushed her long curly hair out her face to look me in the eyes but before she could say anything her boyfriend Yoongi came out from the hallway with a full outfit on. He waved at me but all I could do was give him a half hearted smile. He came over to give Alice a kiss on the cheek before walking to the door.
“Have you been in the bangtan studio lately Yoongi?” I blurted out. I needed answers asap.
“Yeah, why?” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“You been there these past three weeks?”
He nodded, “Why…wassup?”
I looked at my best friend and she shook her head, her hands tapping against her thigh; a habit she does whenever she gets pissed off or worried. After nobody answered Yoongi just shrugged and grabbed his keys before bidding goodbye to us before heading off to the studio.
“Text him.” Alice urged me.
I nodded and got my phone out my bag with shaky hands. I cursed at myself for trying to get emotional over this. I trusted him, he wouldn’t hurt or disrespect like that…would he?
I grabbed my black iPhone and unlocked it. I went to me and Namjoon messages. I looked back at our past ones for a second and sighed nervously. It was just him giving me one word replies and my stupid ass steady trying to get him to say more. Why would he say more to me when another girl has his attention? No, don’t think like that.
I sent him a message and awaited for his reply which didn’t take long surprisingly.
babygirl: hey nam, can i come to the studio?
24 minutes to respond.
babyboy: nah im busy rn
babygirl: oh okay…well i love you.
Read.
I blinked back some of the tears that was threatening to spill over. I will not cry, nope not now at least. Alice came and sat by me and looked down at the messages. She looked at me and I smiled at her to assure her I was alright even though I really wasn’t.
“It’s okay to cry. ” She rubbed my back but I shook my head.
“Let me text Yoongi.” She got up and went back to her room to retrieve her phone before proceeding back into the living room.
While she texted him I started to think of all the things that could’ve went wrong in the relationship. What did I do that made him want to stray off and find somebody else? What happened?
“He isn’t at the studio…” Alice trailed off with a quiet tone. She showed me her messages of Yoongi saying how Namjoon wasn’t in the studio. I slipped out a laugh that wasn’t humorous at all. It was quite dejected.
“I have to go.” I packed all my stuff back in my purse and got up to head to her front door.
“I’m sorry girl.” Alice walked me out and squished me in one her hard to breath hugs. Any other time I would’ve pushed her off but right now I needed it.
“Just come by if you need me, no matter what time.” I nodded and walked out with sorrow written all over my face.
// home.
I sat on the couch in me and Namjoon’s house with just a candle lite. A door opened and closed back signaling Namjoon was finally home; at 2 a.m.
“Shit it’s dark as fuck in here.” His heavy voice sent chills down my spine.
The lights flickered on and my eyes stayed put on the candle that was burning slowly.
“Hey Nam.” My voice came out raspy, like i’ve been screaming all day.
“H-hey…I thought you’ll be a-asleep by now.” He nervously smiled and came around the couch to see my face.
I shook my head and a tear rolled down my face. I knew I had to ask him the golden question but I was afraid of the answer. I didn’t want to lose the person I thought I would spend the rest of my life with.
“Hey, don’t cry. What’s wrong?” He rubbed my arm but I jerked away from his touch.
“Have you been cheating on me?” I finally looked at him.
He stared at me and I studied his eyes, his body movement, the way he told me he did even before it came out his mouth officially.
“Namjoon please just tell me.” I whispered.
“Yeah…I cheated. I’m sorry.” He looked down in his lap as if he was ashamed of what he did.
I quickly raised off the couch and dodged into our bedroom before he could see me break down. I slammed the closet door open and grabbed a random duffle bag before snatching clothes off hangers. My face was heated and my mind was dizzy. All I could do was let the tears roll down my face fast and try not to scream out.
Namjoon walked in and grabbed my arm to stop me from grabbing my stuff but i snatched my arm away.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” I pushed him away from me and he almost fell back with a shock expression on his face.
“C'mon ____ be rational right now!”
“BE RATIONAL? YOU FUCKING CHEATED ON ME!” I screamed in his face and wiped my hot cheeks with the back of my hand.
He snatched my duffle bag off the floor and started to throw shit back out. I reached over to grab it but he held it from me.
“You ain’t leaving this damn house until we talk.”
I screamed out of frustration. I threw my hands up, “WHAT IS THERE TO TALK ABOUT? YOU FUCKED SOME OTHER BITCH, THAT’S ALL THIS IS!”
“LET ME EXPLAIN ____!”
“NO! FUCK YOU!” Push.
“I HATE YOU SO MUCH!” Push.
“WHY ME NAMJOON!?” Push.
And he finally grabbed me and wrapped his arms around me as I shouted profanities towards him. I started to hit his chest to let me go but he just held me tighter.
“Let me go…” My voice was almost gone.
He shook his head and I heard him sniffle and that pissed me off even more. He has no right to be angry. Nobody forced him to cheat on me. “GET OFF ME!” I pushed him off and stumbled to the other side of the room. I was a mess right now.
“What did I do? Is it because I was to clingy? Am I not interesting anymore?”
“That’s not it—”
“THEN WHAT IS IT!?”
“Baby,”
“Don’t call me that bullshit!”
Namjoon put his hands up in defense and continued “It’s just I wanted some extra attention–”
I picked up the duffle bag and threw it at him when he said that. I stormed over to my keys and purse.
“____ please,” He walked towards me.
“No, we’re done. Fuck this.” I walked out the room and practically ran out the house and into my car. I slammed my car door and started to cry even more. This was it, this was my last time being with the man I love. I placed my head on my steering wheel and sobbed. I sat up and wiped my eyes and grabbed my keys to start the car up.
