Jimin And Taehyung Are Only Two Months Apart But Jimin Sounds Like Hes 12 And Taehyung Sounds Like He’s

This was beautifully written!

A Matter Of Time (Namjoon x Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k (ish)

Pairing: Namjoon x Y/n

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected sex, semi-public sex, night sex, flirting, kissing (tongue and other), making out, drinking, missionary sex, cumming on (you), orgasms (yours and his), dirty talk, oral sex (licking, sucking), intense sex, mouth fixation, finger sucking, fantasizing, semi/public nudity, spying/voyeurism (mild), thinking about Namjoon's big cock. Probably missed a few!

Genre: PWP, Strangers to lovers

AUs: Mildly CEO BTS/CEO Namjoon

Summary: It's just a vacation at a beautiful resort. ..And it's just a matter of time until it becomes more.

Author’s Note: for @worldwideseal. Suffer well, dear sis. Purely for escape and sauce. Don't trouble yourself with the hows or gaps in this plot, just enjoy.

Thank you for reading, should you choose to. If you feel like letting me know what you liked with a comment, I'd love to hear. Reblogging is ALWAYS appreciated, but never required.

Tag List: @kiestrokes @askkrisachan

The travel agency had promised so many beautiful scenes. By far, this view outstripped them all. And this was not the result of losing track of time in tropical heat or some sun baked illusion. 

This was as real as it got: A man, paused at the bow of a decent sized yacht. 

The resort brochure had boats—all shapes and sizes. Certainly ones just like this, but being this close to one wasn’t on your itinerary. But snorkeling was, and you’d been doing fairly well at it. 

Right up until you’d come to the surface to snatch a quick breath and saw the form, standing at the boat front. You sunk lower into the water, until only your nose and eyes showed.

Even the wide lens of the snorkel goggles didn’t diminish this impressive silhouette. Especially not such narrow hips. Or the way his body just widened the higher your stare went. You’d never seen a shoulder span like this, or a neck so elegantly long and thick.

He wore a smile as he rolled it right, face upturned to the sun.

Whatever might be on his mind, the man wore no concern, letting the sun wash across his sparkling face. Head to toe, every inch of skin shimmered. 

You were certainly close enough to watch a few rivulets trickling down one side of his neck. And admire the way his hair was slicked along his scalp with almost artistic swirls. He ran fingers through a section, head rolling your way. 

You snorted. A few bubbles broke the surface in front of your face as you bobbed, legs slowly kicking independent of where your focus was: fully zeroing in on this stranger. He certainly looked content relaxing one hip into the bow rail. 

I KNEW I should have brought my camera. It was your best investment yet: a waterproof style that you’d saved a bit to purchase. Snorkeling had a purpose and you’d kicked yourself all morning after realizing the camera was sitting on the bed back at the hotel, unused.

Based on the man preening in silence, the camera’s full potential was going entirely to waste.

Wouldn’t have been a crime to sneak a snap or two of this hunk between shots of clownfish and stingrays. Or coral beds and seaweed. 

It got better when you actually noted he wasn’t wearing a stitch. It was all bare skin top to toes. He spent a long time in the sun like this because the only parts a shade lighter were the rounds of his ass. 

You had to give it to him, those were the best tan lines you’d EVER seen. Following the down slope of his abdomen, you caught the peek of familiar shape. Thick and bare. Your eyes popped as your gaze dragged to the other end of the boat, finding letters, painted immaculately in black with fleur-de-lis shapes accenting.

Fanta-sea 

That’s cute. You had a passing concept of boat names, knowing enough that they were usually clever, humorous, or even punny at times. This name suited the owner. As far as you were concerned, he met the definition of a fantasy.

Foremost, yours but who even KNEW how many other women. There was no way on God’s green earth this man was here without company. And if he was? A resort this nice would soon fix that.

You took an unabashed eyeful of the man's ass when he turned away, readily deciding this was the choicest ass you’d ever seen. What you’d managed to see of his front was surpassed only with this angle. He was blessed with long legs and hamstrings defined by sections of tight muscle.

It was truly a delight for the eyes as he strolled towards the bridge, then ducked through an open door there. With him gone, your shoulders surfaced and tension ebbed away. That didn’t stop your lips trembling.

“Jesus..” 

Yes, you’d been floating out here for a while, finally accustomed to the temperature, but now a chill ran the length of your body. Skin prickled against the flow as you began a sluggish dog paddle, heading for the shore. 

Although you’d started further down from where the yacht floated, it was hard to believe you’d missed it this easily. Every stroke against the current, you tried not to look back. Tried not to think about how he looked. How long he might be staying and was it the same resort? 

For now, he seemed to be alone. There’d been no telling giggle, or signs of anyone else there to share the space and the view. No other body sprawled out on the deck, soaking up sunlight. That lack just added more questions to a rapidly growing list. 

First and most pressing of all: What is his name? 

The second followed just as doggedly, sinking claws into your brain: How could I even meet this guy?

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The ‘how’ came about all on its own, when you stood at the bar, watching the bartender pouring your drink. Until this moment, you’d been all too fixated on how close he could get to the top and not spill a single drop. 

Just beyond the bartender’s left side, you noticed the stare. It wasn’t that you’d gotten to really see the face clearly, but you didn’t need to. 

The shoulders were enough, even stressing the crisp white shirt of the form leaned against the bar, directly across the way. 

And your confusion dimmed the lazy jazz and island fused beats down to a thrum as his stare held. You found the barstool suddenly so preciously high with both feet swinging inches off the floor. 

Your fingers gripped the bar edge as you watched the man stand and make his way around. When he did, you knew that body, even a layer of clothing on.

With a warm evening breeze playing through your hair, your eyes followed the white, linen shirt approaching. It fluttered around the man’s chest as he braced an elbow into the counter next to your left side. 

His smile had one dimple and the very subtle shadow of a second on the other cheek. The neon signs above the bar reflected in his curious stare. Both dark brows twitched up.

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” At least you managed to speak up. Although the resort bar wasn’t packed at this hour, it was easy to hear your racing heart. The pace was much more than when you’d been kicking through the waves to chase exotic fish or explore coral reefs. And the view, even better.

A glass slid nearer. The man glanced there, then came back to your face. “Yours?” 

As you lifted the glass the contents shivered briefly. Your lips met the rim with a responsive “Mmhmm.”

“Are you here alone?” He was moving along, another temperate breeze washing around you both. He wasn’t afraid to ask what you’d wondered earlier. You were beyond certain that this WAS that same man.

Your skin felt alive. It wasn’t just tropical heat, and it would soon be moving to other places. Several, ready to respond as intended around a good looking man like this. 

You gulped down a mouthful of fruity coolness, hoping a little liquid courage would go a long way. Especially with your mind full of nothing but the recall of this man’s bare ass and smiling face, soaking up the sun hours ago. 

But do you admit that? How could someone even approach that kind of thing? You couldn’t very well say ‘Yes I saw you naked, on a boat. No big deal..’ It wasn’t exactly a nudist resort here and he probably didn’t even think anyone would see as far down the beach as you’d gone. 

It must have been written all over your face, because the man’s head inclined as his expression devolved into a cheeky grin. “What is it?” 

“I’m alone.” You replied. His stare intensified, his upper body inching closer,closing off space for the breeze roiling its way down the bar, heading at you both again. Your skin was starting to get clammy. 

“Is there something else?” 

“..No.” Your eyes moved to the glass, sweating on the counter nearby and your nails drumming the wooden bartop. Out of beat and tapping the nail points in a nervous staccato. 

He didn’t break eye contact. “I’m here alone too. How rare do you think that is?” 

“Not that rare.” You ventured. 

There was no way to really know, but you hadn’t missed the pairs and groups of people wandering around in the previous days. The beach was riddled with goers, all laughing and communing around you and your lone towel, umbrella pitched at an angle as you squinted into a book and sucked down a mimosa for a few hours. 

It wasn’t a bad thing, but it wasn’t like you’d been able to say you were having the MOST fun you could have. You had plenty of things to do and a partner or friends would just drag your schedule down. 

“I think it’s interesting, anyway.” 

While he was facing the bar and ordering a drink, you studied his face. The man’s skin had become dewy. The sheen went all the way down into the space at the top of his shirt. This wasn’t like ocean water evaporating in the midday sun rays.

This was a muggy summer sweat, which ALSO suited him well. It was getting hard to ignore the darker spots starting to appear where the sweat concentrated most, at the center of his broad chest.  

He turned back with a glass in hand, raised it, then sipped, you spoke up with fingers circling your own glass. You didn’t sip. The glass never even left the bar. 

“You’re here on that tour package–Island Escape?” It didn’t hurt to ask. “...I am. It was a great deal. Once in a lifetime thing, you know?” You added. Now felt like the right time to lay out your purpose for setting foot on these beautiful grounds, and it'd save him the trouble of asking.

He smiled again. “I’m more the self guided tour type.” 

“You travel a lot?” Alone, hopefully.

The man nodded. You smoothed hair from your neck, winding the sweat dampened strand around one finger. 

“Is it for work or…” Your voice trailed off. Bare toes curling, you came off the bar seat and went to the balls of both feet. You shouldn’t yield to the pressure pushing up from inside your hips, but there was every incentive NOT to ignore it. 

“..Or something.” The man’s lids lowered perceptibly, watching you over the glass as he took another long sip, then set it down, entirely facing you.

Something about that was so satisfying, despite being overwhelmed. KNOWING he was looking at you, versus you looking at him–with him unaware–was an entirely different ball game. 

“How often do you take these trips?” The man asked. 

“Let’s start with the important question.” You retorted, a smile breaking out. He mirrored it, showing just how perfect his teeth were too. 

“Hmm?” 

“What’s your name?”

His head dropped with a chuckle, making both shoulders dance and drooping the shirt front lower. Giving a clear-as-day view of the tight valley between his pecs. And hints of muscle there, judging by the shadows playing. Your throat clenched.  

“Yes, we SHOULD get that out of the way. A nagging detail, but probably important. I’m Namjoon.” 

After he said his name, he held out a hand. You found his grip warm and measured as he pumped your hand but didn’t let go first. You wanted to hold it all night, but reluctantly pulled your hand back and rested it palm down on your thigh, feeling the heat through your gauzy skirt.

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you, Namjoon.” 

Namjoon’s head bowed deeper this time, then he looked towards the resort, watching people further away. There were more couples. Somehow the attendance doubled between when you’d gotten here and when he’d come over. It wasn’t like anyone here knew you’d stumbled upon this man hours ago, when you’d seen him in a most intimate way–birthday suited and sun drenched.

For all you knew, this resort had a nudist beach portion. There was plenty to discover and you only had a handful of days. You’d only begun to check off a full list of activities, none of which stimulated below the belt. 

Until tonight. 

“You’ve been here a little while?” Namjoon asked, stepping closer. Standing that much closer. Within reach, more so than he’d been before. Unspoken respect, but that didn’t mean you weren’t more tempted to reach out and touch. 

Underneath your skirt, the heat was becoming too much. So was the ache that was gnawing through you.

“A couple days.” You agreed. 

“Me too. It’s nice this time of year.” 

“Is that your..boat?” 

Namjoon’s brows shot up again, then pinched briefly. “My boat?” He looked good, even feigning confusion, eyes shining playfully. 

“Yes.” You puffed a little. “Out there in the water–I saw it earlier.” 

“When?” He asked. 

“Today. I was snorkeling and I saw it….saw you.” Fire clawed up your neck. Namjoon caught the flutter in your lids and lowered his own more. He took a brief bite of his lower lip, then scoffed.  

“Did you? What was the name on the boat?” 

“Fanta-sea, I think.” Don’t think. I KNOW. And Namjoon KNEW that you knew. His face came a little closer.

“Yeah. That’s my yacht. Didn’t think anyone would be on the section of beach, down that far. Usually it’s empty.” 

Usually? You swallowed hard. “You’ve been there before?” Surely he meant the day before, or earlier than that. 

“This time of year, yes. Other times it’s pretty packed. I try to avoid it in the dead of the season.” 

“Season.” You echoed. Clarity was coming, rapidly. He wasn’t talking about it as a season vacation package-goer. This was so much more. 

“Mmhm. Travel season. When vacationers overrun this resort. It’s not too bad right now. But there are times..” He didn’t finish, chuckling. When he grew quiet you stared into his eyes. And he looked deeper into yours, stirring something that had your walls twitching. 

“Sounds rough..” You managed. You wanted to finish the rest of your drink but you were certain the glass would smash to the ground if you tried to pick it up right now. Instead, Namjoon pushed the glass further out of reach, following the bar top towards your hand. His fingers lightly rode the knuckles on the back of that hand. 

“Y/n..” He was solemn as another breeze wrestled the shirt around his body. Your thinned lips refused to release any kind of affirmative sound—not that he needed it to continue. “..Have you ever been on a yacht?”

You managed a head shake. 

“I want you to see mine. Come with me?” 

You wanted more than that. You wanted Namjoon, just as you’d seen him earlier, except bathed in moonlight, naked under your gaze. If you could be guaranteed a chance at that…. 

Once again, he must have read the desire telegraphing in microexpressions across your face when he took your hand, fingers laced easily through. He tugged you closer, staring down his nose. 

“Know you didn’t come here to see a boat, but trust me. It’ll be worth it.” 

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You’d managed a few indulgences in your time on this planet–the occasional spa day with your closest friend. A nice dinner with your parents. A birthday shopping spree at the best stores on the rich end of town. 

Stepping foot on a yacht wasn’t quite on your list, but not for the reason you’d assumed. Where you lived wasn’t close enough to a beach or convenient to fly to without sinking a whole day in and out of airports and planes. 

But this trip came with bonuses that checked the lux yacht experience off your list after inking it right at the top.

Stepping onto Namjoon’s yacht proved it was even BETTER from on board than it had appeared floating in the ocean and stone’s throw away. Even with just the moonlight painting the finely finished wood deck. 

The surface was cool under your feet as you paused away from the ladder and slipped off your flats. You laid them next to Namjoon’s shoes, arranged neatly side by side, then followed him as he moved towards the beam, where the yacht seemed to be widest. You could spin around, arms wide and never hope to hit a single thing–in fact ALL of your closest friends could do that very same thing with that guarantee. 

Namjoon had turned, watching your big eyes roaming with a measured smirk. Slowly his arms crossed at his chest. 

“View better from up here, hmm?” The wind was stronger here, and a bit cooler, coming off the water and the rocking of the yacht wasn’t noticeable as you’d expected. It was more an imperceptible sway. 

“It’s beautiful.” You marveled. 

Eventually your attention found its way to Namjoon, the darkness around consuming the taller portions of the ship, disappearing into the shadows if you squinted up or in any direction too far. 

Not that it mattered. 

This man standing just in sight, chest expanded, and the wind teasing his shape through whipping fabric was the best, most breathtaking view of them all. You weren’t even sure you’d noticed any stars in the sky as you gazed at Namjoon’s beaming smile. 

“When you saw me today….What was I doing?” A step brought Namjoon close again and you braced, leaning into the soft tilt you could feel in your senses as a wave rolled the giant yacht body a little. 

“Just…standing here.” You replied, skimming back more hair as it spilled forward over your shoulder, dragged by the wind. You knew he was watching that action, his eyes roving in matching directions. 

“Standing here?” He glanced down. “I don’t think it was here.” 

You held back a giggle. “Obviously not there.” You looked around, nodding towards the bow of the boat. “There… I think. It was hard to tell from down in the water but…I saw enough.” 

“Did you?” He moved by you, but had your hand as he did, pulling you closer to the railing. You didn’t end up there, but you could see down into the water from the nose of the boat well enough. You had a sense of somewhere, in that dark ocean below, that he’d be lying to say he hadn’t seen you floating there–even as vast as the ocean was. 

The water was too clear and calm earlier. And your bright pink snorkel set stuck out like a sore thumb, but you said nothing, combing back more hair on the other side, tucking it behind that ear. 

Namjoon released your hand. His feather lite touch grazed your chin.

“I was standing near here.. Hmm?” You nodded, watching him do the same a little, fingers circling your chin. Pressure came as he squeezed softly, pulling the rounded shape up faintly. “..Just doing nothing?” 

You managed another nod, grateful he didn’t let go. 

“...What else did you see?” 

“What do you mean?” You breathed. That building feeling that had nestled and filled up your pelvis became a massive, pulsing ache. There wasn’t a single, undisturbed nerve there. 

“I think you can tell me.” 

Whatever had compelled you to keep staring as you did earlier today, treading water, or not long ago, across the bar, on Namjoon’s approach, it was bigger than everything right now. And it kept you from breaking eye contact. It prevented any lie from growing roots. 

“..Nothing.” Your tongue swept your lips and the wind sucked the moisture right off in a blink. “..You weren’t wearing anything.”

Namjoon’s face relaxed as his brows shifted as he nibbled his lip longer this time. “And what did you think of that?” 

It wasn’t like you’d never seen a man naked. In your life you’d seen PLENTY of them. All shapes and sizes, but none like Namjoon. None had hit you so directly in the center of your need. 

“I liked it.” 

“I liked being naked. It’s freeing.” 

You squeaked. It meant something, but you didn’t have time to figure out what. Namjoon’s thumb pried your lower lip down as he leaned towards you. His lips opened just a little. Dizziness rushed to your head as you swooned towards his approach. 

At the last minute he stopped, the touch of his lips a silky heat as he spoke into your parted lips. 

“Did you like what you saw?” 

“Yes.” You whined. “Your body is—” 

“Mmnnn..” He dragged his lips across yours for a peck and pulled back just so, again. “Be naked with me? I think you’ll find it’s liberating here.” 

“Here?” You blinked, feeling your lips sinking around his thumb as he fed the tip past your lips. 

“Yes. Out here. On my yacht. On the deck. Under the stars. Are you here to enjoy yourself and do what you want? I am.” 

You didn’t answer, lips still tight around his finger, until it popped free from your latch. You chased it a little until Namjoon seized your chin again and leveled his stare on you, nose to nose. 

“Y/n..” His tone dropped a level, dragged across gravel. Serious, to match his unflinching gaze. “What did you want when you saw me naked?” 

Where could you even start? You went with the first thing your brain and loins demanded in unison. 

“I wanted to feel you.” Confession felt so good, the heat spilling up out of your mouth as you spoke. Namjoon leaned his front into you, letting you get a good sense of his body. And it was exactly as firm and muscled as it looked from that big, deep blue world below. 

You went about as wet too, right at your seal. Your nipples perked and you moaned when his chest dragged your top across the newly woken points. 

Namjoon cradled one hip, then gathered the hem of your shirt, guiding it up your side. The other hand did the same, bringing your top to your breasts, peeling it away. Along with the bra underneath, he dropped both to the deck.

Smiling, Namjoon pulled your hands to his hips and nodded. “Go ahead. Help me out?”

This was really happening.

All the questions and pondering that had been building all day long and simmering all night were now about to find a happy realization. Fruition, in the form of your fingers, under Namjoon’s shirt, pushing rough and fast. He did the rest at his shoulders, hauling the garment off. It went right to the ground, atop yours. 

Without speaking, your fingers walked the waist of his bottoms, finding them just like his shirt: a lighter material and quickly off his body. He kicked them clear after you stood up. Without waiting, his hands guided your skirt down. 

As the stretching waistband widened and rolled down your hips, Namjoon mouthed over your bare belly. You moaned, listening to the sound carried away by the salty breeze. It didn’t matter–what mattered was how good this felt. 

The water lapped the hull as Namjoon’s lips pressed into your skin. He tugged a bit of skin below your navel, shuffling your panties down last. When his open mouth found your pussy, your thighs shook and you melted down against his face. 

Namjoon was ready, jaw flexing as his hands caught your hips, lifting you enough. His tongue dove against your folds, spreading you with a few long, firm licks. From the way his moan rattled your mound, he was more than pleased with the taste. 

The stars you barely made out winking in the sky overhead, faded again as your eyes rolled shut when Namjoon pulled your clit tight between his lips. And sucked, deep. Hard. Pulsing his lips with a suction that didn’t falter. 

It went on for some time until you felt like everything was flowing down, out of you. Your senses finally came back enough to groan his name as fingers scraped his scalp. Twisted hair through your fingers, tugging him closer, then trying to pull him away. 

Namjoon wrestled himself free with a dulcet sigh. “You taste…so good…” He swabbed your slick from his lips in a lick, then palmed your ass. “...Lay down for me, baby..” 

The deck was exactly as smooth as it'd been under your soles, when back and ass met it. No sooner and Namjoon went to hands and knees, then stroked both palms down the insides of your thighs to guide them apart and settled between. One leg he draped along the inside of an arm, the other he pushed up and out, angling the knee to widen you. 

Opening you at the very center, wind spilling over slick coated skin. It felt good, but that didn’t last long. The gnawing emptiness was back and your hips twisted as you whimpered. The very last thing on your mind was the devilish details. 

Small things, like what Namjoon said next. 

“Y/n…You okay with raw?”

I shouldn't. So why do I WANT to? Vacations were about being care free, but this was about as far from sensible as you'd ever been. ...And every fiber said you WANTED it. Right-wrong-whatever, let it sweep you up.

Your palm struck wood, then dragged with a squeal of damp skin and sting of friction. Breasts jerked and rose higher as you arched. Impatience went right down to the center of your soul.  

“Yes..” You gasped. “..Just want you.. Please… fill me up.” 

Namjoon’s gripped cock drew close and he swept the head right up your center, coating the blunt end. You wanted to wither at the way he moaned in surprise. It wasn’t long before he guided his tip right against your opening. 

A palm thumped against the deck, bracing right next to your hitched knee. The other arm bent, keeping your other draped leg angled shamelessly high. Then Namjoon slid inside. It was relief at first, as you stretched around his shaft. Then it was sweet pain as he sank deeper, stretching you more. 

Your ass wiggled when Namjoon pulled back. Pushed in, with a single, firm body roll. He slid back out, then plunged again, this time falling immediately into a steady pump. He had a stroke that said he knew what to do with himself. 

And how to take care of the perky tightness that was developing the more he thrust. Your fingers started at his forearms, circling there, then nails touched skin, sinking in, then dragging higher with a low moan. Your body shook with the impact, then gyrated counter to Namjoon’s marching pace. 

“You feel so…tight. God..” He snarled, snapping hips harder. Less gentle, his head went back. The stars were back, under your lids, and when they opened, the shining started on Namjoon's skin.

Underneath your bare ass and back, the deck was alive with sound–you shifting up inch by inch with the power packed into each forward driving motion. Namjoon was heading quickly towards pounding and it was opening a pit of pleasure under your belly. Your walls gave a massive clench and chills washed over you.

An orgasm was right there, about to hit you hard. Your cocked knee recoiled more, snapping in place over Namjoon’s hip. The other heel sank into his back. Both climbed higher as he grunted. Added force. Barreled into you–through you. Waves of pleasure built on top of each other inside you.

Another dizzying rush and you barely gasped out  “That’s it…Namjoon—” before it all hit you at once. Struck you dumb in a full body convulsion. His instroke faltered as you seized around him, clinging so hard onto his biceps that he shuddered. It must have hurt, but you couldn’t be bothered to notice.

You couldn’t help anything you did,except let out a high pitched shriek of relief. However far that carried, it wouldn’t be a surprise if it reached the shore. You’d taken more than enough time at 7 knots, getting further and further offshore, rising and boring through inky waters, deep into the approaching night. 

And it led to this: you, under Namjoon, his cock stabbing relentlessly into you as he went on after a short reprieve. Enough that he could pummel you again, taking his own turn. Your nails slid through moisture again. 

Had to be more sweat developing faster than the wind could wick away, but that was fine. Your pussy was ultra wet, just tight enough he could get away with more force. More depth. And it sounded so good. You were helpless to do much but lay here. Taking it with eyes bleary and fixed on a far away point of light. A single, white point blinking in the distant horizon. 

It was just like that moment you’d seen him on the bow–under the golden sun. A mirrored moment, but bathed in white of the moon’s delicate aura now. Head craned, lines in his neck strong, taut skin aglimmer again. And like earlier, it pulled you in entirely. You couldn’t look away, eyes barely open, adrift in the afterglow. 

And you, rocking against the final thrusts. Rocking like the waves against the ship’s hull, giving away as it was meant to: You, wet and pliant, melting around Namjoon with his last plunge in, before he pulled out and brought himself upright, head thrown back. His shaft speared once more through five tightly circled fingers, then the spurt of cum splashed onto your belly.

Hitting higher, shot by shot until he created a decent, milky pool between your shivering breasts. 

Namjoon had to be proud of the sight: sweat and his load, mixed on your chest and torso. He openly admired, then his shoulders dropped. Eventually he leaned over you. In spite of however much effort he’d just put out, Namjoon was still just as careful laying against you with his full body weight.

His weary smile wasn’t lacking any satisfaction. A dreaminess painted his moon washed features. You found it easy to get lost, admiring in silence as he gathered thoughts then spoke.

“...God.. you’re…” That was YOU, robbing an obviously well spoken man of the coherency he was accustomed to. Probably even KNOWN for in his daily and professional life. I did that. And fuck does it feel AMAZING. If the girls back home only knew… 

Not that you’d ever tell.

“Mmmm..You…didn’t want to finish inside me?” Was that really pouting in your tone? Were you really too fucked out to question yourself or hide it? 

Namjoon chuckled, looking down at your breasts, and further, getting a much closer look at the chaos he’d left behind. The verdict was in–he was quite impressed at the handiwork.

“You didn’t ask.” When he dragged fingertips through his fluids on your belly, then headed for your mound, your hips lifted. His hand pulled back just before he reached what you were offering all over again. “..Mnnnngg…Good aim and distance.” 

“You’d cum inside me if I wanted?” 

Namjoon looked at you again,from under lowered brows, wearing a questionable smirk. “I’d consider it. Not the brightest move if we’re strangers.”

“Neither is condomless sex. Or sex on a boat, in the open ocean air.” 

“Sex on the beach is an option too, Y/n. The night is still young and I know a stretch of beach that’s empty for SURE this time.” 

“God..” You began. Delight tightened everything inside. Although you’d just cum, the body was quickly recovering and the mind was more than willing to meet this man’s unflagging energy. “..Namjoon..” you gasped, turning your face when shyness caught up for a moment.  

He wasn’t letting that feeling gain any traction,bringing his face close, angling for a kiss. Ultimately soft, exploring your mouth lightly with his tongue. When yours flirted past his lips, he sucked the tip and you squeezed around nothing, drowning in a moment of pure desire. The kiss was over all too soon, and Namjoon was sitting up onto his knees.

“Let’s go below deck. Clean up and change.” He’d already begun indiscriminately collecting clothing, pausing to dab away the more plentiful globs he’d left behind on your chest and belly. 

“Does that mean we’re heading back to shore?” 

Namjoon sighed. “..Eventually, we have to.”

He WAS right, but you didn’t want to just yet. Not tonight and maybe not until tomorrow afternoon. It was much different enjoying the ocean being out on, rather than splashing hundreds of feet offshore or laying out on a towel in the sand. 

Namjoon detected the concern in a pinch between your brows. “What’s wrong?” 

“Does ‘eventually’ mean…now?” 

“Not if you don’t want it to. I don’t…Is that okay?” 

Relief felt as cool as the night air racing across your thighs and breasts. The puddled fluid on your skin was rapidly becoming distracting for different reasons: a persistent reminder of the temperature falling around you as the night wore on. 

“Yes.” You smiled as he took your hand and brought you to your feet. Even entirely naked, you suddenly didn’t care much. It was a nice surprise. In the past, nudity hadn’t been the easiest for you. A vacation from that hang up was a bonus. 

Standing face to face, Namjoon watched you for a moment. And you gazed up, remembering the moment you saw his eyes, around the bartender. You hadn’t done much and it hadn’t been long, but you felt different enough to ensure you’d come back from this trip a changed person. 

“Let’s get settled. Sleeping on a yacht in the ocean…It’s like a waterbed. Best sleep of your life..” There was no need to promise. Namjoon had already guaranteed it. From the pleasant and relaxing heaviness seeping through every limb, this would be the most refreshing night of sleep you’d had in a long time. 

And when it came to vacations and resorts, this would lead the pack for a long time too.

----------------------------------------------

You buckled the lap belt long before the flight leveled out and reclined back into your seat. It was routine. Everything, going off without a hitch. At the airport reasonably early. Breezing through security. And now, perfectly situated–magazine on your lap. Earplugs prepped for insertion. Carry on tucked under your seat. Your final step in the ‘routine’ was a look out the window. 

Cruising altitude was a few minutes away, but peeking out the small window to your left, you could see it all easily enough. 

The island. Large, pale squares of the resort’s most prominent buildings. Even the darker red clay tiles of the resort bar. Where your best night had begun. Better than the hikes. Better than the tours of the ancient landmarks. 

And out there, at the shoreline, the thin white trail of the waves rushing at the shore line, then ebbing away as they slid back to where they’d come: the vast and endless ocean. You couldn’t  make out figures on the beach anymore, from this high up. 

And because of that, you knew looking for Namjoon was fruitless, until the moment you saw it: his ship there, anchored further down the shore, opposite from where you’d found him. A single, elongated white shape, alone on the blue. 

For a moment a pang of sadness filled you dangerously to the top, bringing a brief heat to your eyes, but you blinked it away, smiling against the thick plastic of the window. You focused on his boat for a bit longer, then shut the window shade. 

It was how you needed to leave things: the last sight should be what had made the most impact in your memory: Namjoon. And his smile as he let your hand go first,when you’d left this morning. Early–just before the sun was fully out, sweatshirt shapeless on your form, eyes puffy from sleep but still struggling to drink him in so close. 

And what he’d said–that he’d see you again... How did you know?

Show and prove came in the form of a link: a text with a link. When you clicked it brought up a calendar with Namjoon’s name. There wasn't much detail beyond dates and locations--blocks of color hashing out days at a time. 

Whoever Namjoon was here at the resort, beyond the boundaries and back in daily life, he was regimented. Private. Very secure. Protective of his time and much, much more.

Those walls were high but for a few hours he'd given you a peek over. This text brought them down again--something you had a feeling did not come easy or often.

He meant what he said. 'I'll see you again.'

Scrolling forward through his calendar, for a few months from now, you knew exactly when. Your mind was already doing the math farther ahead. Finding that perfect alignment. 

All you had to do was pick a date and fly there. From here,and no matter how far apart you were, it was just a matter of time. 

❝ FIC REC’S ⌗KIM NAMJOON !

❛ — ⌗ fluff ★彡

-not just friends

-like couples do

❛ — ⌗ smut ♪ (´ε｀ )彡

-creampies

-size kink

-birthday sex

-sugar

-overstimulation

-getting hurt during sex

-sweetest thing

-connected

-in the morning

-dripping wet

-wanna be yours

❛ — ⌗ dad!namjoon★彡

-namjoon as a first time dad

-nine months

-this

-expecting

-little steps

-pregnancy w namjoon

- becoming a girl dad

❛ — ⌗ angst彡

N/A

❛ — ⌗ headcannons / reactions / masterlist✿ 彡

-nsfw headcannons

- hearing you tell him to cum inside

-fluff alphabet

-namjoon masterlist

-this

Bloom | KNJ {M}

Family is who you kill for. Who you die for. In this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. But when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. That is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom.

pairing: assassin!reader x florist!namjoon genre: smut, angst, action, sprinkles of fluff words: 20.7k contains: descriptions of violence & blood, weapons, minor character death, fingering, dirty talk, oral (f), protected piv, multiple smut scenes, namjoon talks to his plants a/n: this piece challenged every ounce of my creativity (in the best of ways) & i’m so ecstatic to share it with you all! i tried my best with the floral research, please forgive me for any inaccuracies.

Night is coming.

With steady hands, you draw taupe curtains on windows that reflect the light of a dying sun, melting into the horizon to pave the way for the illustrious moon. The space now cast in darkness, you follow the trail of shadows to the full-length mirror that lines a wall in the entryway of this hotel room.

“Lights on, 60%.”

You tilt your head to a side, scrutinizing the dress that hangs loosely from your figure, done in a muted, subtle navy. With no loose threads to be found, you focus on your hair, on the carefully pinned bun and the solitary tendrils that weave their way down the side of your face. Just below, two earrings, diamond studs, add just a hint of distracting sparkle. But the most important accessory of your night will be the ring on your right hand’s middle finger, and the thin, imperceptible needle hidden inside, filled with exactly one dose of lethality.

From the designer purse that sits at your side, you extract your mini-communicator. A few taps has the hologram pixilating to life, bursting from the screen as you confirm the details of your mission. Tonight, you intend on making the acquaintance of one Park Siyeon. Multi-millionaire. Entrepreneur. Target.

Keep reading

congrats, jen! can i request namjoon + “how mad would you be if i kissed you?” for your blogiversary event? <3

feather light | knj

pairing: namjoon x reader

rating: G

genre/warnings: strangers to lovers, fluff, barely any angst unless you count aerophobia as angst?, unedited bc that should be its own warning lol

word count: 1.1k

note: thank you so much for sending in a request!! it's been a while, i know, apologies for the delay!! for some reason i've always wanted to write a drabble where namjoon is a stranger on a plane hahahha i'm glad i was able to incorporate that idea into this request!! i hope you enjoy it heheh ☺️

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

If you’re being honest, you don’t recall much of February 24.

You remember boarding the plane, and finding your seat, and fastening your seatbelt, and gnawing on your bottom lip like chewing gum throughout the pilot’s announcement. It was a relatively short flight, only two hours from your city to the island where your friend’s wedding took place that weekend. Usually, you can handle short flights just fine. You just needed to take your meds beforehand and you’d be good to go.

Except, you’d forgotten them at the hotel, on the counter in the bathroom, before you headed for the airport.

Looking back now, was it divine intervention?

Maybe. The universe works in mysterious ways. You’ll never know for sure.

Then, as you internally freaked out in seat 17A, you just knew that life absolutely sucked. Your own brain was feeding you the most terrible thoughts and painting the most gruesome scenarios of all the things that could go wrong over the next two hours. 

It was great - truly amazing - that you only had your brain for company and nothing to distract you.

You hated every aspect of flying, but takeoff and landing might have to the parts you despised the most. When the plane rumbled to life and began to slowly move on the runway, your hands immediately slapped down on the armrests and held onto them for dear life. You remember squeezing your eyes shut and not even daring to take a breath, as if one exhale could send you and all the other passengers to the nether world.

You remember staying completely still for five whole minutes, until the plane settled into a smooth rhythm and glided through the clouds with ease.

You remember taking an experimental breath, but then something warm moved underneath your right palm and you almost screeched in horror.

You remember opening your eyes to find yourself clutching the hand of the person sitting in the seat next to yours. The events of that day may not be very clear in your mind, but the absolute mortification you felt in that moment still sometimes resurfaces to the front of your brain.

You remember scrambling to apologize for holding his hand hostage and not even realizing it. You remember watching him smile amusedly and reassuring you that it was fine. You remember his soothing voice as he told you that his little sister was scared of flying too, “It’s all good.”

You remember the dimples and the kind eyes that calmed your storm for a split second.

Maybe that’s the real reason why you don’t remember February 24 all that well.

Maybe it was something that you only read in books and watched in movies: Love, at first sight.

You remember your hands getting clammy and he mistook it for your fear rearing its ugly head again. He started talking, no doubt to help distract you from the fact that you were thousands and thousands of feet in the air.

Admittedly, you couldn’t really focus on what he was saying, just that he was telling you how he was getting back from a trip with his friends. Something about being an art collector, something about vitamin B powder…

You don’t even know what you replied to his questions and stories, if you even responded at all or if you just sat there, listening but not really listening.

The task of trying not to make an even bigger fool of yourself in front of this beautiful stranger got you through the better part of the dreadful two hours, until the very end.

When the plane shook, only once and it was just very light turbulence, but that was enough for you to spiral again.

Curse the meds that were probably thrown away by housekeeping at that point, and curse you for leaving them behind.

You were back to square one, even though there were only twenty minutes left to endure. Your hands gripped whatever they could find as a means to ground yourself, and it just so happened that his hands were nearby.

You remember his long and delicate fingers wrapping around your sweaty ones, holding your hand back.

You remember him telling you that everything was fine, that you were almost home.

“Breathe.”

“In and out. 1… 2… 3…”

“That’s it… It’s almost over.”

You remember his warmth not leaving your palm until the plane landed, and the other passengers started getting their luggage from the overhead storage.

When you made it back onto solid ground and inside the safety of the airport, you thanked him for putting up with you the past couple of hours. He said he was glad that he could help, and you asked for his name then, shyly.

“Namjoon,” he answered with a dashing smile. “I told you on the plane.”

You remember flushing with embarrassment once again.

You walked together outside, then stopped to stand in silence as each of you ordered your own Uber.

Yours arrived first, and Namjoon helped you put your suitcase in the trunk of the car.

Sure, you might not remember much of what happened on February 24, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re sitting here, in the waiting lounge of that same airport three and a half years later. This time, you remember to bring your meds, but nevertheless, your leg still bounces in anticipation of the flight you’ll be boarding soon. Until his hand lands on your knee to soothe your nerves, and his voice is clear in your ears.

“Stop that,” he chuckles. “You’re making my seat vibrate.”

You shoot him a glare and your best pout. “I can’t believe you’re making me fly on our anniversary. I should be so mad at you.”

He laughs then, gentle hand moving from your knee to interlace your fingers, diluting this “anger” of yours that’s already as non-existent as it is.

“How mad would you be if I told you that we can do whatever we want for the next five stress-free days? Fancy hotel spas, lounging by the pool all day, dinners right on the beach… I even called your boss and asked for two more days off if you want to stay longer.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling, but he sees right through you. “Still very mad.”

He narrows his eyes playfully, squeezing your hand because he knows he’s already forgiven. “And how mad would you be if I kissed you? My kisses always make you feel better, mhmm?”

You remember that feeling you had on February 24, when you saw him smile for the first time.

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 11.03.2023]

Swooning in my head right now…I can totally hear Namjoon saying that line! Can’t wait to read this fic!!!

And now you’re mine

You know how I always say that Kim Namjoon is so votable that I'd vote for him even though IDK what he's running for? My brain wouldn’t let go of the politician Namjoon…But what if he's a senator that's now vying for the presidential seat? and what if you were his ex-fiance that he was now attempting to get back because he did say he would make you his queen? and what if he is a mastermind and you have no choice but to fall back into him?

Sneakpeak:

“We didn’t break up,” he noted in a calm tone you were starting to hate. It was as though nothing could faze him.

Your mouth hanged agape at his statement and you were fuming. “Okay, now you’re just being annoying. You do know it is illegal to do drugs, right? You should be mindful of that when the presidential campaign is just around the corner, Senator Kim.”

“You broke up with me,” he stated as stood up, his hands rested on your desk as he leaned his face close to yours. “I didn’t accept it, baby girl.”

Ahhh! So that’s what Smoke Sprite means! I was wondering about that!

무한한 황소윤

단정 짓는 순간 확장되는 ‘소윤무한육면각체’. 소윤의 정규 2집 가 증거다.새소년이 기획하는 ‘Hello, World!’ 시리즈 공연을 지난 주말 봤습니다. 팬데믹이라 3년 만에 열렸어요. ‘Hello, World’는 프로그래머가 프로그래밍 언어

in an interview with vogue korea soyoon said smoke sprite “refers to the effect that people disappear when they explode like a bomb in a cartoon”

My favorite person

Weverse - Black and white - Selcas - 2019-2023

Holy shit! This is fucking good!! More please!

Sanctity

Your ex-husband is at a wedding with you, and it feels like you don't exist. Part of the Love series, read the rest here.

Pairing: Namjoon x afab! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Exes, angst

Warnings: Swearing

When you were invited to this wedding, your university friend Soojin had told you that Namjoon was going to be best man.

Soojin’s groom, Alex, has been friends with Namjoon since childhood, so you weren’t surprised at all.

You’d texted Namjoon about the wedding but he hadn’t bothered to reply.

You’d assumed that he was busy, you’ve been slammed at work too, it’s always hectic in the runup to Christmas.

The wedding ceremony is in a 15th century chapel, tucked in the side streets of the very edges of the city, and the wedding celebration in a boutique hotel nearby.

You’re chatting to one of your old university friends at the drinks reception after the ceremony when Namjoon arrives.

He looks irresistible in his navy suit. Perfect. Unattainable.

He’s not alone.

He’s got a stunning woman on his arm, and they’re both laughing like she’s just said the funniest thing in the world.

Your ex-husband’s dimples flash, and he bends down solicitously, steadying her as her heel gets caught in her beautiful gown.

Their show of unity hits you like a kick in the chest.

Namjoon looks up, catches the stricken look on your face that you aren’t emotionally nimble enough to hide.

Your eyes lock.

A breath is all it takes before he turns away like he never saw you.

***

There’s a startling clarity to your feelings as you try your hardest to avoid your ex and his date at this small, intimate wedding.

You’re hurt.

Hurt that he didn’t bother to tell you he was bringing a date to this wedding.

Hurt that as much as you’re trying to avoid him, he seems to be just as keen to avoid you.

You know he’s been dating since the divorce, well, you both have.

You owe each other nothing.

You smile distractedly at the ex-classmate you’re struggling to find common ground with.

What’s his name?

Louis? Lewis? 

You’re too scattered to remember.

He’s telling you about his recent divorce, which is making you think about your own divorce.

Two years ago.

Have you and Namjoon really been fucking around for two whole years after the divorce was finalised?

Shit.

You can’t blame him for wanting to move on.

Louis steadies you as someone bumps into you from behind, jostling you.

There’s kindness in his eyes.

You force yourself to focus.

‘Divorce is hard,’ you say, a lame attempt at keeping the conversational ball going.

Louis, the gentleman that he is, says, ‘People who’ve been through it tell me it gets easier over time.’

‘I don’t know that it does,’ you say, the first truth you’ve spoken tonight.

Louis looks at you curiously, but you’re in no mood to extrapolate. 

You swallow the rest of your drink and excuse yourself to use the bathroom.

You don’t recognise yourself in the mirror, that’s the honest truth.

Sure, you’re wearing the clothes and jewellery you put on earlier today, and your hair is still how you styled it, but you look completely different.

You’re flustered and frazzled and anguished.

Worst of all, you’re a fool.

You add colour to your cheeks to hide how drained you look, top up your lipstick in a desperate attempt to fix your face, but you know it’s futile.

You emerge from the bathroom and realise everyone’s heading to their tables for the meal.

You check the table plan and head for your seat.

You force a smile for the vaguely familiar people at your table and are pulling your chair out when a hand lands next to yours on the back of the chair.

You follow the line of the arm, up to the shoulder, up the curl of hair just touching his collar, up to his face.

Min Yoongi.

‘Let me,’ he says, smiling at you politely.

He seats you, then sits in the chair next to yours.

‘I didn’t know you were coming to this wedding,’ you say.

The truth is, you’re grateful for his familiarity.

You don’t know Yoongi well, but he and Namjoon are close friends and he’d joined you for dinner a few times whilst you and Namjoon were still married.

‘I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it back in time,’ Yoongi admits. ‘I wrapped up a project in Kowloon last night.’

You know Yoongi works for his family business.

‘Have you been busy lately?’ you ask.

Yoongi signals to the waiter, hands you a glass of white. 

‘No busier than usual,’ he says. ‘I think Namjoon’s been busy though.’

‘Yeah?’ you say, carefully neutral.

‘Seen much of him lately?’ Yoongi asks, taking a sip of his wine.

‘Not a lot,’ you say, truthfully.

‘Me either,’ Yoongi says.

You take another sip of wine.

‘So how come you’re at the singles table?’ you ask, trying to change the subject.

Yoongi rakes a hand through his hair.

 ‘No one will put up with me,’ he says, straightfaced.

‘I’m really taking one for the team, sitting next to you,’ you say, deadpan.

‘You definitely deserve extra dessert,’ Yoongi shoots back.

The laughter that bubbles out of you at his remark goes a long way towards easing the tension you’ve been feeling all night.

Yoongi smiles. His hand lands on the table, rings gleaming as he fiddles with the wedding favours scattered on the white linen.

‘I’m hungry,’ he tells you. ‘I hope the food’s good.’

You’re not sure you’ve got any appetite but you murmur in agreement anyway.

At least you can’t see Namjoon and his date from where you’re sitting.

Yoongi’s got a knack for filling in the blanks in the conversation, but even better, he doesn’t mind silence. 

His company carries you through the different courses so well you feel like you need to thank him. 

You’re about to, when a delicate tinkling fills the air. 

You turn around to see that it’s your ex-husband, standing, tall and handsome in his suit, especially now that his tie’s loosened a little. 

He’s holding up a glass of champagne. 

‘I hope you’ve enjoyed your meals everyone. As Alex’s best man, I’ll be guiding through the speeches this evening,’ he says, smooth, confident, charming. 

He’s always been good at commanding a room. 

You feel disconnected, numb as Namjoon introduces Alex’s father, Soojin’s father, Soojin’s maid of honour for their speeches, applauding mechanically. 

You don’t take in a single word any of them have said. 

Through it all, Namjoon provides a charming, easy commentary, until it’s time for his own speech. 

‘I’ve known Alex since we were kids,’ Namjoon says, ‘and believe me, there are stories that I could tell, but I did promise that I wasn’t going to embarrass him in front of his nonna.’ 

There’s a ripple of laughter. 

You’re transfixed. 

You’re trying to remember when you last heard Namjoon speak like this. 

All of your interactions for years have been snappy, impactful, sexy, but he hasn’t sounded like this in years. 

He sounds relaxed, confident. 

Happy. 

You sit rigidly as Namjoon shares an anecdote, to the hilarity of the room. 

It’s the final part of his speech that breaks you. 

‘I can truly say that I’ve never seen a couple more perfectly matched than Soojin and Alex. I can only hope that all of us have the privilege of experiencing a love like theirs at one point in our lives.’ 

You can’t help yourself. 

You’re staring at him, wondering if he can feel your gaze on him. 

Namjoon raises his glass in a toast. 

There’s a sigh from the room, followed by a wave of applause. 

It’s the perfect ending to the speeches. 

Namjoon never once glances your way. 

****

You don’t stay for dancing, just exit as quietly and discreetly as you can. 

You slip on the beautiful coat you bought just for this wedding, do up the buttons mechanically. 

Head out the entrance, sighing with relief when the front of the hotel is empty, save for you. 

Well, not quite. 

There’s a shifting to your left, you turn just in time to see Yoongi straighten up, ice cubes clinking in his glass as he steps forward, out of the shadows. 

‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he says mildly. 

‘You didn’t,’ you reply. ‘I’ve got an early start tomorrow, I should get going.’ 

Yoongi nods. ‘Can I give you a ride?’ 

‘I’ve got a taxi on its way,’ you demur. ‘Besides, I don’t want you to have to leave because of me.’ 

Yoongi nods again.

Then he gives you a half-smile. ‘Want the rest of my drink?’ 

You glance at him, surprised. 

He holds out the drink to you. 

The whiskey goes down smooth, a mellow fire that warms you. 

‘Thanks,’ you say. You put your hand on his arm as he takes the glass back. ‘Thanks for tonight.’ 

Your words brim with meaning, you don’t want to explain but you get the sense he knows, anyway. 

He’s been friends with Namjoon for years. 

There’s kindness in his eyes as he covers your hand with his, gives yours a gentle squeeze. 

The sliding doors to the hotel slide open, but your taxi’s arrived, so you don’t look back. 

You get into the cab and breathe the first breath you feel like you’ve taken in hours. 

You turn your head to wave goodbye to Yoongi, only to see Namjoon standing next to him. 

Your eyes meet for the briefest of moments before the taxi drives you away. 

©hamsterclaw 2023

Namjoon x Reader 

Word Count - 600 

SMUT 18+ SILVER HAIR DADDY JOON - forbidden sex

Keep reading

can we get amnesia trope with namjoon pleaseee?

Never Forget You

Pairing: Mafia!Kim Namjoon x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

3000 celebration

“Do I know you?”

You visibly stiffened when you heard his deep voice. You tried to calm your heart that was beating too fast, tried to breathe slowly. But how could you pretend like nothing was happening when Kim Namjoon was literally standing in front of you? When it had been almost a year since you last saw him?

When it had been eight months since you left him?

When it had been eight months since you last saw him bruised and bloodied?

You heard him chuckled softly when a moment passed and you still didn’t acknowledge him. You were terrified. You knew nothing was simple with him. You knew nothing was uncomplicated when it came to you and him… and Namjoon suddenly appearing in front of you made you lose all the progress you made.

You thought you had escaped him. Yet now, he was standing in front of you.

Suddenly, you were back to being that naive girl who loved him too much.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. It’s just that…you looked familiar,” Namjoon trailed off when you finally looked up at his tall form. The first thing you noticed was the scar on the side of his forehead, a clear and bitter reminder of how the two of you ended on what seemed like lives ago. The second thing you noticed was the color of his hair. The old Namjoon would never dare color his hair, but the man in front of you was spontaneous enough to do so.

The last thing you noticed about him was his eyes- they were no longer angry. His eyes looked as angelic as the first time you met him. Kim Namjoon looked at peace.

And so, you lied.

You lied because he deserved the peace and you were terrified.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know you.”

The second time you crossed paths with him again was after two months. You decided to move again the very next day that you saw him. You were certain you weren’t safe, that you needed distance from him for your sanity and his peace. However, destiny seemed to laugh at your efforts.

You were walking, your eyes focused on the scenery on your way to work when you felt someone crashed into you, cold liquid poured on your white shirt. The dark contrast of coffee against your shirt was enough to make you lose your composure. You were about to unleash hell on the assailant when you saw who it was.

However, his face shut you up. Of course it was him. Again.

“I’m so sorry!” Kim Namjoon exclaimed in a horrified voice, his mouth focused on your wet shirt and the see-through brassiere that you snapped your fingers in front of him.

“Eyes up here, Namjoon!”

He looked at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck when he realized what you said…when he realized what you called him. Suddenly, he lost the apologetic look on his face, his eyes widened with curiosity and suspicion.

“What did you just call me?” He asked in a deep voice. He tilted his head to the side, his mannerism even before the accident. You hated how you still knew about this. You so badly wanted to erase him from your thoughts.

In fact, it should have been you who lost the memories. In that way, you would be able to escape his memories: the good and the bad.

You stepped back when he walked closer to you. You were glad that this happened in public. You wouldn’t be this glad, though, if this happened eight months ago. If this happened eight months ago, Namjoon would just simply take what he wanted regardless of the consequences.

“You called me Namjoon,” he stated, his eyes taking you in. He looked lethal despite the changes in him. For heaven’s sake, the old him wouldn’t be caught wearing a tote bag like he did now. The old him wouldn’t even dare wear whatever he color of clothes he was wearing right now.

You opted to look at his chest rather than his eyes, which he found rather unacceptable. You gulped when you felt his finger tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “Do you know me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. The one he used to call you so lovingly…yet sometimes he did so mockingly. You were shaking when you met his curious eyes.

He chuckled without any emotions when moment passed and you didn’t confirm nor deny. “Was I a bad person that you would lie to me about knowing me?”

He wasn’t. Until love or rather, until obsession swallowed him whole.

For the second time, and what probably was the last time, Kim Namjoon let you go. The tears that were pooling in your eyes were enough for him to gently let you walked away from him.

“Are you going to be honest now?” He asked his father who was sitting in front of him as though he was the king himself. In a way, he was. They sat on top of the hierarchy in the underworld, and Kim Namjoon before the accident was the King when his father stepped down. He was the king, yet he couldn’t lead right now because of his memories.

They said he was chasing after someone when it happened.

They said the person wasn’t important and that the person was now gone.

The doctor was confident that he would remember everything in due time, which was fine to him. Really. It was fine. However, he felt a constant stabbing pain in his heart. He felt incomplete. He felt as though his world lost its balance.

Something was missing.

Someone was missing.

Because if not, how could he explain the dreams that both haunted and enchanted him each night? How could he explain the scenes similar to that of a movie whenever he closed his eyes of a girl who loved him?

Someone loved him.

And he was desperate to remember her, to get her back in his arms where she obviously belonged. He was simply restless.

“What are you talking about, son?”

Gently, he laid his palm on the wooden table. He leaned in, his calmness a mask to his insanity. Namjoon was always calm, yet his calmness was lethal. His father knew about this. Most especially, you knew about this. “Don’t lie to me,” he whispered in his deep voice. “Who was I chasing that night, father?”

His father thought he deserved the truth, yet he didn’t want to him to know. His son had always been levelheaded, yet when it came to you, his ever-loving sanity vanished. Personally, he thought it was a blessing in disguise when he forgot about you.

He should’ve known, Namjoon would never just let go. His obsession was stronger than the clean state of his memories. He recognized that obsession because he too was once obsessed with Namjoon’s mother. And it was his love that drove her away.

He didn’t want it to happen to Namjoon.

Yet, it still did. He drove you away.

“And this time, please don’t lie to me.”

He regarded him with his eyes, “You were chasing your fiancé that night.”

Three months passed, and you hadn’t seen him since then. You moved once again, living peacefully. Or so you thought.

It had been thirteen months since you escaped from him. The car chase was something you would never want to relive, yet you could remember it clear as day. His love suffocated you. What was once a sweet relationship turned sour when he let the darkness won. He terrified you. His love was obsessive, his embrace became tighter, his kisses became more desperate the more he felt you pulling away. But didn’t he realize you pulled away because he stopped being the Namjoon you fell in love with?

And when you finally discovered how deep his obsession was, how people suddenly disappeared when he felt they were a threat, you had the courage to leave him. But he didn’t take it easy. Of course, he didn’t. When he found your ring on his bedside table, he lost it.

And that was how the car chase happened. That was how he lost you.

You turned your head to look in front of you when you heard someone sat. You thought that finally, your date your coworker set you up with finally arrived. But instead of him, Kim Namjoon was there.

He sat down comfortably, his eyes focused on the menu. And you knew, you just knew that he was back. His hair was dark once again. Gone was the tote bag and simplicity in his clothes. Now, he was sporting the usual suit you knew he favored.

It scared you that he hadn’t once looked up at you. He only did so when he placed his order, and you noticed he ordered for two. He ordered your favorite.

He remembered now.

“W-what are you doing here?” Your voice trembled as you took him in.

“You’re here, sweetheart. Where else would I be?” He asked in a mocking voice, his eyes finally on yours as he took you in.

Thirteen months you ran.

Thirteen months he lived without you.

He had enough.

“What did you do to him…”

He leaned in, his head tilted to the side. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We only…talked.”

“Don’t lie to me!” You hissed, anger getting the best of you. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Suddenly, the restaurant was emptied by men wearing dark suits. And then they dragged the bloodied man inside. You were crying, you didn’t realize until Namjoon wiped your tears. He hated seeing you cry. It was his weakness.

Perhaps, he loved you too much.

“Shh,” he comforted you, standing up to kneel beside you. He looked into your eyes with overflowing love, with too much love that it drowned you. “Nothing will happen to him. I promise you.”

He kept his promises, always.

After all, he promised you that he would never leave you. And beyond his memory loss, he never left you. Namjoon kept on coming back.

“If you marry me now, nothing would happen to him.”

You looked at his sincere eyes. He looked worried over your state. “Do you promise?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I promise.”

That night, he slipped back the ring you left. That night, Kim Namjoon promised that he would love you forever.

That night, he promised to himself that he would never let you escape again…and that he would never forget you again.