Archive of Our Own

For six months the apartment next door was empty. An older woman with kind eyes used to live there with her black Pomeranian. You would always meet each other in the hallway. She going into her apartment from her morning walk and you leaving yours for work.   

From time to time, she would knock on your door with a plate of extra handmade cookies or dumplings she just “had way too much to keep.”

 You would enthusiastically accept them, her offering always coming at a time when you were just too lazy to cook. Savory pork filled dumplings, juicy and warm that a five-star restaurant couldn’t hold a candle to. The cookies, soft, chewy oatmeal raisins cookies with just the right amount of sweet with cinnamon.

And then one day, it all stopped. You didn’t see the older woman in the mornings anymore. Her mailbox downstairs got so full a small crate was devoted to her overflow on the floor. You begin to worry if she was ok and had a thought that you should call the police for a wellness check. But you don’t even hear the yap or the dog through the wall anymore.

Maybe she was just gone.  

You wonder if she had just moved or if she was ever coming back from a long vacation. Nobody seemed to go in and out of the place since she disappeared. Until you saw a tall, dark-haired man going in with a filled moving box as you were coming home from work.  

His broad shoulders and strong arms made holding the box and opening the door look easy. His face seemed familiar and his kind eyes you knew you’ve seen before.  

“Hi,” you say, opening your front door just as he opened the one next door.  

“Hi,” he grins friendlily. A dimple pooling that you could drink from. His skin golden and glistening slightly from the work.

“Moving in?” you ask.

He held the box in his arms effortlessly with a simple nod. “Yeah, my grandmother moved in with my parents and I’m taking over here.”  

Ah, so she did just move.

Relief washes over you that she was ok. Just with her kids. That made you happy to know she would be closer to her family instead of living alone with her dog. If she was your grandmother, you’d push for the same.  

“Oh, cool. Well, I’m your neighbor, Y/N.” you respond cheerily.  

The man grins wider and your heart thumped heavy. “Namjoon. Nice to meet you.”

He reaches for your hand to shake despite the balancing act of the box. Shaking it you couldn’t help to notice the softness of his touch or how beautifully long his fingers were compared to your short ones.  

“Nice to meet you,” you smile. “Welcome to the building.”  

“Thanks,” he smiles that gorgeous smirk again.  

You part ways going into our respective units, closing the door behind yourselves. He seemed nice. He looked gorgeous. And your stomach fluttered in a way that you thought might become a problem later.  

~  

After it seemed like Namjoon was finally moved in, you began our own routine of meetings in the hall. Both of you seeing each other leave your apartments in the mornings to go to work. But instead of the worn t-shirt and jeans you saw him moving with, Namjoon wore suits.  

Magnificent, tailored suits that he looks stunning in. They accentuated his frame like each piece of fabric were stitched right into his body. And he wasn’t shy to show some style. You saw a new shirt, tie, suit, sock, and shoe combination everyday, in an array of colors and patterns that made him look modern yet classically charming.  

His fluffy hair and bangs swept from his face with just the perfect amount of product, and a leather black bag on his shoulder.  

It made you look at your simple skirts and blouses shabbily. Finding a major need to take yourself shopping soon.  

“Morning Y/N,” he would smile at you. His voice deep and smooth with the morning.  

“Good morning,” was all you could muster most days. So in awe of the man who lived just a wall away.  

You didn’t talk much beyond your daily greetings. Finding that when you had never been shy about making new friends, you now became.

You didn’t know what Namjoon did for work, but he could easily model if he wanted to. His build slim and yet sturdy enough to look good in anything. You didn’t know anything about Namjoon other than what you could gather through the soft noises that came through the shared wall.  

The bass and stylings of Illmatic thumping through periodically, the hum of a blender, voices that sometimes were more than one. He obviously had friends and guests from time to time. Of course, Namjoon was popular. It seemed impossible for him not to be. Laughter and chatter easily muffled yet heard in my somewhat silent space.  

Days, weeks, went by and you still hadn’t made any effort to talk beyond your morning greetings. And you were ok with that. Just getting a glimpse of that smile and those dimples was a perfect way to start the day.  

You were once lucky enough to see them one Friday night coming home late from a wretched day in the office. He was just leaving in a white dress shirt and dark jeans. His hair still styled for work but in a much more comfortable way.

 Relaxed.  

God, he looks good.  

“Hey Y/N. Coming home pretty late,” he grins.   

“Hi. Yeah, bad day at work.” You lament turning the key.  

“I’m sorry,” says Namjoon. “Those suck. Well, at least it’s Friday.”  

You exhale feeling frazzled but somehow not as shitty standing next to Namjoon. Your brain was totally fried when you left your desk, now you could focus a lot clearer talking to him.  

“True. I’m doing nothing this weekend,” you scoff, excited to get under blankets and have a movie marathon. Sometimes you craved doing nothing and this weekend was your chance to make that dream come true.  

“Oh, well I was going to leave a note under your door but I’m having a small get together tomorrow night. I was wondering if you’d like to come over,” Namjoon put his hands into his tight pockets. “But if you’re planning to just stay in—“ 

“No, that’s all right. I’ll come by,” you quickly reply, trying not to sound too excited but interested enough. Your insides feel like jelly seeing the bright smile on his face from the acceptance.  

“Great! Everyone should be here around six. You don’t have to bring anything if you don’t want to. Just come,” he assures, tapping your arm lightly.  

The spot immediately feels warm.  

“Ok, see you tomorrow,” you grin opening your door, the energy from his friendly gesture jolting through your body. You needed to get inside before you did or said anything weird.  

“Alright, tomorrow,” he waves after a cheesy finger gun that made you smile. He could do that easily apparently with just the stupidest thing.  

You walk into your house closing the door behind you and could feel air in your lungs again. Dropping your bag at the door as the effects of his presence still lingers.   

A party at Namjoon’s. What to wear, you didn’t know. Nothing seemed satisfactory in your closet just thinking about it. And even though he said you shouldn’t bring anything; you thought it was only right that you did.  

You call your best friend Hobi, the only fashion guru you knew, for help. He agrees to take you shopping tomorrow morning after phrasing it as an emergency.  

It was. When your hot neighbor invites you into his house, that qualifies as a level 5.  

~  

“Do you know what kind of party this is?” Hobi asks as you walked through the mall. You were practically the first people in.  

You shrug in lazy jeans and black tank top while Hobi practically dazzled in his neon yellow t-shirt with lime green cargo pants and matching bucket hat. It’s a warm cloudy day, but the blue lenses in his red rimmed sunglasses seemed to complete the look. You think you could never make an outfit like that work, but Hobi did painlessly.  

“He said it was a ‘small get together’,” you reply.  

“Well what’s his style like? To get an idea of the vibe.”  

“Hot.” You scoff. “For work he’s dressed to the nines, but I guess laid back chic is what he’s usually dressed in.”

You could only go from the handful of times when you didn’t see him leaving in the morning.  

Nodding and rubbing his chin with reflection a cliché lightbulb went off in Hobi’s mind with a bright smile like the sun. “Ah! I know the place,” he says grabbing your hand to drag you in a different direction.  

The two of you end up in a low-lit boutique. The clothes on the mannequins are thin and dressed in cute babydoll style dresses of almost every color. You turned your nose up looking in, but Hobi yanked your arm in anyway as if annoyed that you would question his decision.  

Looking through the racks none of the clothes you thought looked like yourself, but Hobi seemed to find multiple outfits to his liking. Shoving you into a dressing room despite your grumbling.  

The first two outfits were a skirt and blouse combination. A little too preppy. The turtleneck on one made you look like I had no neck at all and the skirt on the other felt too tight.  

The third outfit was a white satin blouse that had a built in corseted bodice. The sleeves flowed nicely, and the bodice emphasized your curves perfectly. The jean miniskirt chosen to match went together like a charm. You felt cute, a little sexy even. And by Hobi’s reaction when he saw you in it, you knew this was the winner.  

He gave instructions on how to wear your hair up in a styled clip with the drop earring he gave you for Christmas. A sandaled heel would be acceptable but not a sneaker. If you wore one with this outfit, he promised you would be disowned.  

“I’m literally going to have them on for two seconds,” you mutter.

“Doesn’t matter. He only needs two seconds to see them on you at the door,” Hobi dismisses, taking you to lunch after the shopping spree.  

Getting home just after two in the afternoon, you thought it be nice to return the favor Namjoon’s grandmother gave so many times by making cookies to take over.  

You couldn’t possibly recreate an oatmeal cookie as fabulous has his grandmother but after finding a simple sugar cookie recipe online, you figured you could make that work.  

All-purpose flour. Check.  

Baking powder. Check.  

Unsalted butter and granulated sugar. Check, check.  

Eggs and vanilla extract, and you had everything needed.  

Once the baker’s dozen was finally in the oven, you looked at yourself in the mirror hanging on my living room wall. Flour dusted on cheeks and the apron so badly you thought you had dived into an entire bag.

Taking a quick shower while the cookies baked, you hop out just in time that they were done.  

The house smells like heaven, and you hope the scent lingers on your body well enough before going over. 

Getting dressed just how you was instructed, put on some makeup, wrapped the cookies on a plate, and fixed your hair just so. You look at the clock and see that you’re right on time.  

Fingertips gripping the bottom of the glass plate, you take the two steps from your front door over to Namjoon’s. You could hear soft voices coming from the other side of the door. Faint but pronounced.

You take a quick inhale and exhale to ready yourself and calm the butterflies swarming around in your stomach. Knocking quickly before you can chicken out.  

It must have been a little timider than you thought it was, because nobody answered for a minute. Mustering a little more courage, you knock harder. This time the door creaks open and the tall gorgeous man you expect to answer didn’t.

This man is just as tall and beautiful as your neighbor, but his style and energy is much livelier.

His shoulders are almost as wide as the door frame and his pout is something you couldn’t ignore. 

“Hi! You’re the neighbor?” He asks grinning.  

You nodded with a timid smile, choking back amazement to speak. “Y-yeah, I live next door.”   

“Joon-ah! Your neighbor is here!” He calls over his shoulder before widening the door and stepping aside to usher you in.  

Although the apartment layout looks identical to yours, just in reverse, the style is so much more modish. Sleek furniture of cream, wood, and caramel brown scattered the space very intentionally. Books stacked in between chairs and tables artfully. Paintings leaning on the walls as if they hadn’t been hung in their rightful place yet.  

But it was the plants that breathe life into the apartment that caught your eye. There seems to be one delicately placed in just the right spot to get enough sun but not be in the way.  

It feels light. Airy. Even with the lights low and cool as the sun begins to set through the wide wall of window. It makes you want to cuddle into every inch of the apartment.  

“Y/N!” Namjoon gleams coming out of the kitchen. “You made it.”  

You almost choke on your tongue seeing him in the smooth cream turtleneck he wore. Stretching perfectly to flaunt is strong, pronounced chest across his front with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, it makes it difficult to look anywhere else. The brown slacks he wore are looser than his work suits yet seem tailored just as well. The waistband taken in at his waist to hug his body in a way you wished your arms could.  

“Yeah, I know you said don’t bring anything but, it wouldn’t feel right not to,” you say, handing him the modest plate of blonde cookies.  

His face lights up looking at them, like he was actually pleasantly surprised. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone react that way to just cookies. Wondering if he was just trying to be polite as you glance at the display of very classy appetizers that were placed on the tables.  

“Oh wow! Thank you! These look great. And you made them?” He asks.   

“Just a couple hours ago. Your grandmother always brought me cookies, so I thought why not return the gesture,” you shrugged trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal.  

But his gaze shifts on you to a softer more touched smile. “Thank you, Y/N., that’s really sweet. Really.”   

It was impossible for your face to not flush with warmth.

“It’s no problem.”  

Breaking the heartwarming look, Namjoon shifts his gaze back into generous host. Offering you a glass of wine before making introductions.

 You gladly accepted hoping it takes the edge off of your nerves. It’s some of the best red wine you’ve ever had. Clearly Namjoon had taste in everything.  

The first person you’re introduced to is the handsome man who answered the door. Who’s name you learn is Jin. He waves at you from the couch with a wink.  

Next is an equally beautiful man with long wispy hair. Slightly shorter in stature, with a calmness about him that you couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself or not. His name is Yoongi.  

Another man with more charisma that could be bottled walks up to you, politely leaving a kiss on your hand to introduce himself as Jackson.  All the while while two stunning girls sit by themselves on a loveseat dressed in clothes that were never sold in a mall, fit for their perfect thin frames. Namjoon introduces them them as Hani and Moonbyul.  

Everyone seems to glimmer like jewels while you feel like a dull river stone someone painted in these new clothes.  

“So, Y/N, has Namjoon been a noisy neighbor since he’s moved in?” asks Jackson going back to his place on the couch.  

“Not at all! I barely hear him,” you reply. “He’s been great.”  

Namjoon grins grabbing the bottle of wine to refill my glass a bit more. “Thanks. I really try to not play my music too loud.”  

“You’re lucky. He’d blast it if he could. In college I don’t think I could hear myself think in our apartment,” chuckles Yoongi reaching for a tangerine in the bowl on the coffee table.  

“It wasn’t that loud, hyung,” Namjoon whispered, sending you a smirk as Yoongi complained.  

“You’ve known each other a really long time then?” You inquire with another sip.  

“Yeah, Yoongi and I have known each other since we were kids. I met Jin and Jackson through work. Hani and Moonbyul were friends with Jin for a long time then just got folded into the group,” Namjoon explains.

You didn’t talk to many people from childhood anymore. You and Hobi met in college. And beyond him you only spoke to two coworkers. It was easy to be a little envious how close Namjoon was to everyone. That they had grown up with each other in some way.

“So, what do you guys do?” You ask Jin, taking Namjoon’s lead to sit on the end of a somewhat empty part of the couch.

 He sits next to you, your legs crossed and your knees gently touching each other’s. Namjoon didn’t move and neither did you.

“Art brokers. Joon and I work at the same firm while Jackson we met at a conference.” Jin explains, popping a mini quiche into his mouth.  

It all makes sense now. The style, the paintings. It suited him well.

“But Joon has the best eye for stuff out of all of us,” Jackson interjects.   

Laughing Namjoon waves away the compliment as his cheeks dust a little pink. He’s really cute embarrassed like this. More adorable and tiny than his usual tall masculine self. He covers his smile with his hand to almost hide his laughter. It makes you want to laugh with him.  

“No, no. I just like what I like and read the trends,” clarifies Namjoon.  

“I guess that’s how you date as well?” Hani jokes, sipping her wine.  

The entire room snickers in laughter but you. It was clearly an inside joke that flew over your head, a tad embarrassed to hear being so personal.

Did Namjoon have a type? You think you’re probably nowhere near whatever it is based on the comment. Trendy you weren’t. But today you could play the part.

“Come on! Please don’t embarrass me,” laughs Namjoon, leaning into the couch.

He reaches one arm on the back of the couch, just that much closer to your side. Your already hot cheeks began to burn. Just getting comfortable, you resist leaning into his wide-open side. As perfect as it seems to nestle into.

“Embarrass you? We’re all friends here,” Jin smiles winking in your direction. “You have taste Namjoon, but you can’t deny you have a type.”  

What was supposed to be a sip of your wine turns into a gulp. Yoongi catches your gaze just as it happens with a gummy smile and a nod of approval as everyone else went back and forth about Namjoon.  His face only getting redder as he glances at me while I listen.

Apparently, Namjoon likes them calm and a little shy. That’s why he and Hani didn’t work, Jin added making my nerves spike.

More personal info that you weren’t sure you needed to hear.

“Namjoon attracts wild ones,” Jackson laughs.

Namjoon shrugs, with a sigh. “Maybe that’s why I’ve been so unlucky. If I could just meet someone I could talk for hours with in a coffee shop. Or wander in a museum…”

“Do you like museums Y/N?” Moonbyul asks looking at me with everyone else’s eyes glued to you, except Namjoon who stared in his glass.

“Yeah, they’re nice,” you respond, wishing there was more wine in your glass.

Everyone in the room grins as Namjoon quickly changes the subject.

You’re beginning to feel a buzz. As sweet as the wine was it wasn’t helping the nerves being so close to Namjoon, only heightening them. But you’re feeling good. Having fun just listening to them talk, exposing each other left and right. It made learning more about Namjoon simple.  

How he hated mint chocolate anything. He couldn’t cook much of anything but cups of noodles but could order takeout like a pro. His music tastes ran the gambit from Naughty by Nature to Joe Hisaishi. An avid reader anywhere he went with a book always in his bag.

As friends they’ve traveled through Europe. He and Yoongi even had a rap group growing up. His style then Namjoon said was appalling, begging Yoongi not to show any pictures.  

The group of us laugh, eat, and drink for what feels like hours. As the clock begins to wind down it starts to feel like I’ve known all of them for years. Namjoon’s friends leave waving at you and Namjoon with small bags of leftover snacks in their hands making you the last guest here.

It doesn’t look like a ton to clean up, but you offer anyway. The tingle of the wine and excitement still coursing through your body. Namjoon smiles gratefully as you begin to pick up used plates and glasses.

“You really didn’t have to, but thanks,” grins Namjoon walking around with a trash bag to easily dispose of what remained. “I’m really glad you decided to come. My friends seem to like you.”

“I had a great time. I like your friends,” you reply, walking around his apartment, gathering materials to cover more ground together. “Where do you want your glasses?”

A tiny hiccup slips out your mouth. You could have shrunk to disappear. But Namjoon laughs softly.

“Cute.” He says looking at you with fond eyes.

You knew your face was already red from drinking, but the simple comment somersaulted in your stomach to turn to more heat.

The both of you stare at each other a little longer, just locked in a gaze and in a flash, Namjoon looked away as if nothing happened.

“The sink is fine,” he replies, grabbing the last napkins from the table and emptying serving dishes to follow me in.

The open layout kitchen big enough for two to get around in comfortably but you tried your best to not bump into him as he moved about.

You placed the wine glasses in the sink, only to have Namjoon reach over from behind to drop a few serving spoons in. The warmth of his chest on your back stops your heart for a second. He stiffened as he felt your own body do the same.

“Oh, sorry. I was too close,” he says, taking a respectful step back to the edge of the facing counter. He looks apologetic, but his beauty just leaning there with his arms flexing uncontrollably is polarizing.

You shake your head leaning on the sink, the tingle of his eyes on your body spreading through every inch of you.

“It’s alright,” You reply, unconsciously biting your lip out of nerves and minor intoxication.

His gaze shifting from apologetic to curious. You had always been curious about Namjoon. Since the day he walked in with a box. But now that you’ve seen more sides to him as he and his friends exposed him throughout the night, that mystery turned to undeniable attraction.

He was everything you had been looking for in someone. Book-smart, emotionally intelligent, and kind. He could laugh at himself and make you feel comfortable in an unfamiliar setting. He was funny. He was sweet.

The way he glimpsed at you all night, and even now, you wonder what’s going on in his mind as he looks at you. Are you still just a mystery to him? Or is it attraction too?

Pushing back hair that is falling out the clip, your cheeks prickle with anticipation of the unknown. Another small hiccup releases from your lips again. Embarrassment floods your face once more as he smiles at you warmly.

He tilts his head curiously, his hair swishing against his forehead with a tiny smile of amusement.

 “Are you drunk?”

The question sobers you up even more. When you’re usually a two-glass person, tonight you’ve had four and didn’t even notice.

“No, just a little tipsy. Your wine is incredible. I guess I underestimated myself.” You reply, trying to pull yourself together.

“Happens to me too,” he smirked. “You had fun though, right?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you reassure. “It’s nice having good company. Do you and your friends party regularly?”

Namjoon shakes his head with an adorable look of thought. His nose scrunches cutely coming to his conclusion.

“Not that often. Jin and Yoongi are usually home bodies. Hani is usually busy with work. Moonbyul is hardly ever in town. But Jackson is the party animal,” he chuckles through his explanation.

“I can tell,” you lightly laugh.

“You know, he asked me if he could get to know you better…” Namjoon informs.

You’re a little taken aback by it. In conversation it didn’t seem like he was interested in you more than anyone else there. But it also made you wonder…

“Why would he ask you and not me?” You question.

Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and grins sheepishly. “I’ve no clue. Shy maybe?”

“Doesn’t seem like the type,” you retort with a smirk.

“You’re right. He’s not,” Namjoon chortles. His eyes are locked on yours and you can’t read him but there’s something there that fans a burning in your stomach.

“So what did you say?” You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I told him to ask you yourself.”

Jackson didn’t approach you for a one-on-one conversation all night. You were so close to Namjoon most of the time, or chatting with Yoongi and Moonbyul that it didn’t happen. You wondered if he even tried, or if the look in Namjoon’s eyes discouraged him all together.

But you were nothing to Namjoon. Just his neighbor.

You respond to Namjoon with a nod. “He never got my number.”

“Neither did I, and I live next door.” Namjoon grins and his dimples send you under again.

That’s true. You haven’t even exchanged numbers and yet the electricity between the two of you is super charged. The air static popping with need for action.

“Oh! I’m sorry. Text me anytime.” You say cheerily, pulling out your phone to take his number.

He tells you simply. Voice low and smooth, making numbers sound sexy. You text him a smile emoji and hear his phone twinkle in his pocket.

“There. Now you have my number,” you grin.

Namjoon looks at his phone and snickers at the message. Typing a reply and placing his phone back into his pocket. Your phone buzzes with the reply.

Namjoon: 😉

Texts usually don’t hold any nuance, but never before has a wink emoji pooled so much want in your stomach.

“Cool,” was all you could reply. A soft yawn catching you out of nowhere.

“Tired?” asks Namjoon, leaning off the edge of the counter to walk closer to you.

“A little,” you honestly say.

He nods with understanding, pushing another strand of your hair behind your ear from the updo. His touch sending a rush to you, waking you up completely.

“I won’t keep you then. I’m really glad you decided to come over tonight,” Namjoon says. His finger grazes the edge of your ear and a chill slips down your spine. You nibble on the corner of your lip looking at his. Wondering if he’ll notice your gaze and make his move.

But he steps back and softly exhales. You do the same, not realizing how long you had been holding your breath.

“Ok. Thanks for the invite. See you,” you reply, tampering down the smoldering warmth in your body as you grab your shoes and walk out his door.

The cool air of the hallway feels like fresh air. Once safely inside your apartment you allow yourself to smile stupidly.

Something did almost happen. You didn’t imagine it. And now Namjoon has your number.

Going to bed, your exhausted body wouldn’t cooperate with your mind. You look at Namjoon’s message like an infatuated teenager, not expecting another to appear.

Namjoon: Goodnight Y/N. Sleep well.

 You couldn’t reply fast enough.

You: Goodnight. Rest well.

Namjoon: 😊

How could you possibly fall asleep now?

~

For the next week, you and Namjoon correspond with each other via text at random points in your days about the most random things.

It was Namjoon who had started it, sending a message of a selfie with him next to a Picasso his company acquired. He said he wanted to memorialize the moment with someone other than his friends at work. Sure, they would get it, but he remembered how you said you enjoyed cubism.

You smiled at your phone like a child sitting at your desk when he did that. A couple people walking by asked if you were ok. From then on, the two of you couldn’t stop texting.

You: Did anyone buy the Picasso?

Namjoon: Are you eating well?

You: I hear Nas is releasing another album this year…

Namjoon: Muffin bottoms deserve as much attention as the tops…

  You: Omg! I had no idea that those shoes cost so much…  

Namjoon: You look really nice with your hair down…

It was almost impossible to not feel the flutter in your chest each time his name appeared on your phone.

Catching up with Hobi at a bar later in the week, you shoved your phone in your purse to not be so tempted to text. But the buzz you felt from the replies corresponded with the buzz all over your body.

“So, tell me, how’s the hot neighbor?” He asks taking a sip of his drink.

The conversation had been wrapped up in work, gossip about people you went to college with, and the latest in music releases. You hoped and waited patiently for Hobi to bring this up. There’s so much yet, a lot of nothing to say.

“He’s really nice. We’ve been texting each other about stuff.” You answer, nibbling on the tiny black straw in your glass.

“Stuff? What kind of stuff?” Hobi’s eyebrow raises in curiosity.

“I don’t know just random things. The weather, brownie recipes, art shows…” you trail off as you fail to mention the mild amount of flirting that happens between the two of you.

“Well that’s awesome! He obviously liked your styling for that party, yeah?”

You roll your eyes and chuckle at Hobi wiggling his eyebrows. “I guess. He’s just really cool. Easy to talk to.”

“Have you guys made plans to hang out soon?” Hobi asks.

You pause. Come to think of it, no.

The two of you just have spent the better part of these weeks tapping away on your phones. Joking, updating, sending little emojis back and forth with no whisper of ever meeting to hang out. Even when you see each other in the morning, it’s just conversation as you walk together out of the building. Picking up where you two have left off in text.

It makes you wonder if there’s a reason behind it.

“Not really…” you feel embarrassed to admit.

“So why don’t you ask him out somewhere?” Hobi suggests. “If you’re doing all this texting, you’ve obviously become close.”

You shrug thinking about it. There has to be some reason it hasn’t happened yet. He could be seeing someone. The thought is disappointing, but you don’t want to insert yourself into his personal life by asking.

The two of you have kept it light thus far. That question would make it turn in a direction far more intimate than the mild flirtation.

“I suppose,” you sigh. You’re slowly talking yourself out of it, mentally.

“Just knock on his door and ask him out for tteokbokki. It doesn’t have to be a date, if you don’t want to Y/N.”

But you do want it to be a date. You’re just not sure if Namjoon would.

Hobi did have a point. The amount of pressure added to it was entirely up to you. Your expectations making it how you want the outing to turn out.

Namjoon was your neighbor. A friend. Tteokbokki isn’t a strange ask. So you try.

After going home, washing up, and crawling into bed, you’re still texting Namjoon like you had since you’ve left the bar.

You: Hobi is my best friend. We talk about everything.

You reply after going on about how the two of you met and how opposite the two of you are.

Namjoon: Sounds like Yoongi and I. We talk about anything and everything.

You: I like that we can do that. Talk about anything.

The text bubbles start and stop making your heart patter.

Namjoon: Me too. Who would have thought someone like you lived next door.

You: Someone like me? 🤔

Namjoon: Yeah, easy to talk to.

You try to not let yourself get excited by such a simple comment.

You: Thanks. I guess you’re an ok replacement for your grandmother as far as neighbors go.

A smile slips on your face teasing hoping he does the same.

Namjoon: 😂 Just ok?

You: I mean, you don’t cook so I can’t expect dumplings from you now, can I?

The text bubbles reappearing and disappearing.

Namjoon: Lmao. Fair. But I’m sure I’m better company.

He is great company even if he’s not physically with you all the time. His messages feel like he is.

You: I can’t make that kind of call. We’ve only hung out together once.  

Seeing your opportunity, you take it. He doesn’t take long to reply.

Namjoon: We can change that.

You: Meet me after work tomorrow at the tteokbokki stand down the street. I’ll make a final judgment after that. 🙂

Your confidence is peeking with the drink you had a lateness of the night.

Namjoon: Deal. 😉

You should be asleep but neither is Namjoon. It feels like it’s only the two of you awake in the entire world.

Relaxing into your bed, sleep takes you over but your mind lingers with excitement on what the next day will bring.

~

It’s cold outside. You leave work and it’s already dark. The lights illuminate the fog of your breath as you rush towards home.

Namjoon had already texted saying he was on his way to the stand. Although the stand was outside, it never stopped people or its popularity. Small folding tables set up inside a tent with space heaters, many people sat comfortably eating and drinking their soju not even noticing the chill.

You made it there just in time to watch Namjoon walking up to you, waving with a dimple popping grin on his face.

Your heart thumps so hard you could feel it in your ears waving back to him.

He looks beautiful like always.

Black hair styled off his forehead in a monochrome navy-blue suit and coat. The only bit of color coming from the glint of gold in his sleek belt buckle and dots in his socks. His brown leather satchel flung over his shoulder.

“Hope you weren’t waiting long,” he smiles, standing in front of you.

“No, I just got here,” you answer. The cold barely making a difference in your warm cheeks.

“Good. I don’t want to start off with a low rating on overall experience,” he winked as we make our way into the tent.

We grabbed the last empty table. Loud chatter fills the small space with the delicious spicy smell of the rice cakes. Clinking of glasses and laughter filling in the empty spaces.

Namjoon grabbed a bottle of soju and glasses from a cooler, shaking it in my direction as if suggesting. You nod and he brings it over. He kindly pours for you first and you reciprocate pouring his glass after.

You toast letting the cold liquid slip down our throats. You sip while Namjoon takes the entire glass. The both of you can’t stop smiling at each other for some reason.

“What?” You giggle, taking a stab at the tteokbokki with your chopsticks.

You’ve always found them difficult to grab when a little nervous.

You’re only nervous because he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you sat down. They’re kind and clear. Wide with wonderment yet soft enough to swoon at. His gaze has adoration and you’ve never seen it on someone before.

“Nothing. I just can’t believe it took us this long to hang out again,” he smirks refilling his cup and breaking his gaze.

“Agreed. Is there a reason?” You inquire.

He shakes his head grinning. “Not on my end.”

“Me neither,” you reassure. Finally, you have hold of the rice cake and pop it in your mouth. Sauce is undoubtedly on the right corner of your lips. But before you could wipe it away with a napkin, Namjoon uses his thumb.

 Slowly gliding the soft pad of his finger along the corner and gently touching your lip, you melt into him this time. The action caught you off guard, but now you welcome it. You just didn’t expect him to insert that thumb into his own mouth, briefly sucking it clean.

He acts like it was no big deal, but your breath is gone.

Only a nervous laugh escaping you when oxygen fills your lungs again.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s ok,” you reply, finishing the soju left in your glass. The push and pull of how forward and shy he is sends you in a tailspin.

Biting the corner the cleaned with your teeth, you pour yourself another drink avoiding his eyes.

“How’s your grandmother?” you ask, in attempt to keep composure.

Namjoon chuckles. He’s biting his plump bottom lip nervously when you bring yourself to look back up at him.

“Grandma is good. My parents are getting on her nerves, but she and Choco are fine,” he says taking a bite of a rice cake himself.

You nod happy to hear that news. She was such a sweet woman, subtly a placeholder for your own grandmother who you missed miles away.

“You’re lucky to have her. And those dumplings,” you reply.

Nodding Namjoon pours himself another glass. “It’s not lost on me. She actually felt bad not getting the opportunity to tell you goodbye.”

You grin. That was nice of her. “Does she know her grandson is making up for that well?”

“She’s aware,” he smirks. “And thankful.”

Taking another bite you’re careful not to get any sauce on you this time.

“Was she your reason for talking to me in the first place?” You inquire.

But Namjoon shakes his head with a soft confusion on his face. “No, she totally blindsided me on the fact that a pretty girl lived next door.”

Hearing Namjoon call you pretty you swallow hard. He’s staring at you again with that very sexy grin. It’s pure but it isn’t. Guys like Namjoon are never completely innocent. That’s what makes them so alluring.

The duality of unknowing how hot they truly are, while being unmistakably attractive.

Your giggle is mixed with a scoff. Flattered and in disbelief he actually said that.

“Her grandson isn’t so bad himself,” you say taking another drink.

Namjoon looks embarrassed by your complement.

“Come on, you have to know it a little. All those ‘wild ones’ your friends say are attracted to you.”

Laughing that hearty laugh that makes you want to laugh too; Namjoon shakes his head and waves his hands dismissively. “Nah, they all get disappointed when they finally get to know me though. I’m a bit of a nerd and they expect something different a lot of times based on my appearance.”

You love that Namjoon looks the way he does and is a giant nerd. It’s the most endearing thing about him. How anyone could be disappointed you weren’t sure.

“What are they expecting?” You ask.

“I don’t know. Someone like Jackson. Cool and confident all the time. Knows how to be smooth. Says all the right things,” he replies with a shrug.

“I mean, that move with the sauce earlier was pretty smooth,” you chuckle, bringing a smile to his face.

“It wasn’t a move. I just, wanted to.” Namjoon says, biting that plush bottom lip that you want between yours. “Think first, act later isn’t my strong suit.”

“Funny. All I do is think and barely act on anything.”

 You find yourself confessing to him like you’ve done through texts many times before. He makes it easy to open up through a phone, you didn’t expect it right in front of him.

He nods with understanding. “But think about all the opportunities missed that way. What’s one thing you’ve thought about doing many times but haven’t done yet?”

The question is innocent enough but your mind doesn’t go in that direction. Feeling your face get hot you take another drink. The bottle is almost empty.

“I don’t know,” you lie.

“I think you do,” Namjoon catches you in it with a smirk. But he doesn’t push you.

“If the opportunity ever comes up again Y/N, don’t waste it. You never know what could happen.” He added, popping another rice cake into his mouth.

The fire in your stomach could furnace a house. Spending the rest of the evening finishing the plate of food and one more bottle of soju, you try your best to not stare at Namjoon’s lips.

They’re perfect. How he played with them when unsure, pursed them when he complained, and moved quickly when he talked about something he enjoyed. They look soft. Moisturized even in the winter. Flushed pink against his golden skin.

If the opportunity…don’t waste it.

 The walk home is all quiet. Cars whiz and honk. The wind is blowing through the trees. People are rushing to get out of the cold. And Namjoon is talking to you. But you’re not hearing any of it.

You just see him, and everything is blurred away. Smile. Nod. Chuckle.

You’re so zoned out nothing comes to view until the both of you are standing in between your front doors. A soft exhale from Namjoon’s mouth you’ve watched attentively snapping you out of it.

“So, how was it? Am I officially better company than my grandmother?” he chuckles, licking his lips habitually.

You nod with a grin of approval. “Yeah, I’ll say you’ve passed. Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. It was fun.”

“Thanks for inviting me. I had a really good time. I almost don’t want it to end…” he trails realizing he’s laying more of his cards on the table than intended.

You clamp down your lips together to hide a smile.

“It’s pretty late though, for a weekday.” You reply.

“It is. We should probably head to sleep,” Namjoon nodded sheepishly.

You agree. It’s already ten o’clock and the both of you leave for work at seven to avoid the rush. But you don’t want to go to sleep. You don’t want the night to end and neither does he.

…Don’t waste it…

“Maybe one more drink? Just a tiny one?” You suggest, fiddling with your purse.

Namjoon smirks. There’s a light and a darkness in his gaze at you. It starts that fire again.

“Sure. A tiny one. Come in,” he says punching in his keypad to open his front door.

~

Settled on Namjoon’s couch, he hands you a small glass of whiskey. It’s amber color glowing in the warm lighting in his house. It’s so much dimmer and quieter now that it wasn’t filled with people or party materials.

The warm silence between the two of you is interrupted by the clicking of your glasses.

“I didn’t take you for a whiskey drinker,” he says, bringing the rim smoothly to his lips to sip.

You can’t resist staring as you gently tip your own towards your lips. The smokey and smooth taste puts even more warmth in your stomach. Just with Namjoon’s eyes on you, you thought you’d combust.

“I had a blind date once to a whiskey tasting. Found out I actually enjoyed it,” you divulge with a tiny smirk.

“But not the date?” Namjoon chuckles softly.

You giggle back. “No, he wasn’t really my type.”

“And what is your type, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Quirking his eyebrow at you, butterflies start to flit in your stomach. Namjoon leans back into the couch awaiting your response, a glimmer of curiosity in his warming gaze on you.

You exhale softly with a slightly nervous chuckle.

“Well, someone kind and easy going. Someone I could talk to for hours about, nothing. Someone who’s interesting and doesn’t try too hard. They’re just themselves,” you explain, sweet memories of the two of you floating through your mind.

And as you spoke Namjoon’s eyes softened and shined in the warm glow of the room. A smirk easily slips on his lips before looking into his glass and taking another sip. He exhales softly as if he had been holding his breath the entire time you spoke.

He looks back up at you from the glass there’s want in his gaze. Longing in the way he nibbles nervously on his bottom lip and looks you in the eye.

 It captures your breath tight in your chest. You try to exhale but it’s all shallow and slow. You want him to say something. Anything to let you know it’s not all the drinking that you’ve been doing to make you feel this way.

Namjoon places his glass down on the coffee table in front of the couch. He lets out a breath followed a shy but sexy grin.

 “Has that been hard for you to find?”

You bite your lip and sip once more.

“It was until…”

Your shyness trying to burst its way through where your confidence led you to speak. Namjoon waits for you to finish.

The prickling of anticipation crawling up your arm starts a buzz that courses through your entire body, as he scoots himself just a bit closer to you. Your knees touch but he doesn’t let anything else. He just stares, eyes coaxing you to say what you really want to.

He’s waiting for you.

“Until he moved in next door,” you finish with a tiny grin.

Namjoon’s lips slip into a wide, bashful smile.

You place your cup down on the table and lean yourself just a little more into his side. It’s warm and comfortable.

You don’t want to move. But he raises your subtle move, turning himself to face you. Bringing his large but gentle hand to your cheek, and you relax in his palm.

He’s caressing your skin with his thumb in a spine-tingling way, leads you closer. You follow in the spell of his soft woodsy scent and breath ghosting your lips until you’re centimeters away from touching.

 That’s when he stops.

He’s waiting again. For you to act, give permission, or some sign to take it there. Because you know once he does there’s no turning back. There’s no stopping. You want whatever Namjoon is willing to give. Even just for a moment or two.

“Y/N, can I…” he whispers before you beat him to the punch, slotting your lips together tenderly.

His lips are softer than you imagined. Smooth and sweet as you pulled away to look him in the eye. He isn’t shocked, with more relief slipping down his face to be replaced by need.

He goes back into your lips for a more heated kiss. It sears your heart. Tasting the whiskey even more as you suck gently on his bottom lip. His tongue gracefully slips against yours emitting a soft moan from your mouth.

He’s the best kisser you ever had. Pulling you closer into his chest along the small of your back to steady you as his kiss gets deeper. It’s hot and wet and feels so good your mind can only wander to Namjoon’s hold on you. Massaging your back and neck as he works his lips all over yours.  

You wrap your arms around the top of his broad shoulders, leaning into his body closer. Soft moans and whimpering fall from his lips into yours. And the more you devour each other, the more you’re wetting your panties.

But that would be too much. Right?

You find the composure to pull away and both of you catch your breath. Namjoon’s perfect pout even fuller and redder now. The both of you look intoxicated but the liquid courage was long gone. A drunken smile on your face. His cheeks pink even in the dim glow of the room.

“Maybe I should go before we do something we could regret,” you say, letting rationale take control.

But Namjoon grabs your hands into his, eyes struggling with your words. “I’d never regret a single thing with you Y/N. But if you think that’s best…”

You didn’t really know what was best. The good girl you always played told you to just go home. If you stay you won’t leave until the morning. And the slightly more deviant side of you said that was ok. That you wanted it. That you shouldn’t deny yourself of such a delicious opportunity.

Namjoon is looking at you with so much desire it was hard to keep your focus to decide. He was your neighbor and if this went badly it could make things awkward.

You’re in your head again. You shake all the doubtful thoughts free and slide your hand up Namjoon’s firm chest, feeling him exhale with pleasure.

 He was what you wanted. What you had hoped for.

You’re done being coy. You didn’t want to miss out on what could be anymore.

Sliding your hand up his neck to gently card your fingers though the back of his soft hair, you sigh close enough for him to feel it on his skin.

“If I stay will you…” you were trying to find the words without sounding too vulgar, as much as that’s what you wanted.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. But if you allow me, I’ll make you feel so good you’ll never want to go home again,” Namjoon says just at your earlobe.

He’s drawing circles into your thigh, and it creates an incredible tingling sensation that drives you insane with need.

You haven’t felt like this for a long time. Pressing your top row of teeth on your bottom lip sharply, you hold back a whimper.

Namjoon pulls your chin gently with his thumb and index finger to release your lip. Stares at the bitten flesh with yearning to take its place. Leaning in the light brush of his lip was teetering you on insanity.

“Will you let me?” He asks. You can almost taste his words.

Light and breathless you nod with a barely audible, “Yes.”

That was all Namjoon needed to hear to claim your lips once more with a heated lust that you match him with.

He makes his way from your lips down your jaw and to your throat, skilled and soft. The wetness between your legs only soaking more as his hand grips the top of your thigh. Your whimper unable to hold anymore. Namjoon smirks into your skin.

“You sound divine,” he says, pulling your body over to straddle his in one quick motion. “Let me hear you baby.”

Seated above him on his thick thighs, Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to make his way down your chest with kisses. He unbuttons your work blouse to reveal more of the pink satin bra you decided to put on this morning. His feather light pecks on your cleavage makes you clench on his lap.

The pressing of his length along your thigh only drives you crazier when you feel him throb in his pants as each gentle moan parted from your lips.

You find the willpower to begin to pull Namjoon’s shirt out of his pants, unbuttoning it carefully. It seems like an expensive shirt and didn’t want to let your lust get the best of you when trying to remove it.

He watches you attentively, smiling sexily as you removed each one. Revealing a muscular chest and gorgeous lines in his stomach you couldn’t resist touching. But there’s still a softness to him that makes you only more feral.

Namjoon flinches as your fingers caress his bare skin before easing into your touch. Making your way further, you grab his belt buckle and unhook that with little effort to place next to the both of you.

“You’re doing a lot of undressing me, baby. Let me return the favor,” Namjoon growled gently, nipping the skin of your neck with his teeth.

Your body shivers with his mouth on you as his fingers finish the job on your blouse. Namjoon slips it off your body to rest on the coffee table, freeing you to be seen in that bra. He hums pleased as he skillfully unhooks the bra, pulling that too from your body.

Your nipples are already hard from arousal, only harder more with the welcome of his warm fingers cupping and massaging your breasts tenderly. He kisses your neck roughly, knowing it would bruise as he toyed his fingers along your pebbled nipples.

“A-ahh, Joonie.”

You release a whine and the nickname not even thinking. He growled at that, pinching your left bud just a little harder while his kisses felt like whipped cream.

“Mm, I don’t know how many times I’ve longed to hear you say my name like that. How do you feel?”

“So good.” You breathe, and feel your instincts kick in to slowly grind your hips along his beefy thighs. So strong and muscular you don’t know how many times you wished you could do this.

The friction feels so good, but you wanted more. Your whines and whimpering are begging without coherent words. Namjoon drops soft groans into your mouth with each of his kisses telling you he was begging for more too.

“Take a shower with me?,” Namjoon asks, gripping your ass tight in his hands.

Nodding you lean off him and stand up, letting you see his disheveled clothes and hair.

He looked the sexiest he ever had.

Face at your stomach he kisses it deeply as he unbuttons your pants. Letting his soft plush lips graze each newly naked piece of skin on your hips and thighs as he removes the garment.

You feel so woozy. It’s almost electric. You can barely stand. His hands keeping you just where he wants you.

Coming to for just a moment you realize the underwear you have on today isn’t the sexiest pair you own but it’s some of the most comfortable. Bright purple bikini cut and cotton, with your ass cheeks peeking out more than usual. They’re worn. Very worn. You forgot to do laundry and so it had to do.

Namjoon sees them and grins as you hide your face between your fingers.

 “These are incredibly sexy Y/N. Did you put them on just for me?”

“You’re teasing,” you blush.

He shakes his head sliding his finger through the frayed sides.

“Not at all. Lingerie is fine but I’m more turned on by the beauty of normalcy.”

Namjoon grabs your hips to pull you closer to his face. Your panty line just at his mouth, too close and easy for him to access your soaking clit.

“These look like your favorite, worn and soft. I’m jealous they get so much time between your legs…”

Your heart is thumping as Namjoon’s nose presses against your pubic bone. He slips a finger between your legs and undoubtedly feels the slick seeping onto the fabric. He grins and hums.

“You’re so wet,” he moans gripping your hips tighter. “And you smell so fucking sweet.”

You’re barely breathing as you lean into his face with your body, stroking his hair as he takes you in.  A pleasured grin slides on your face that he can’t see.

Nobody has ever talked about you that way. Openly desired you this much. It makes a fire burn in your chest. To be wanted like this feels incredible.

As you pet his soft dark locks he hums softly against the warm skin of your stomach.

“I thought we were taking a shower?” You ask.

The laugh you feel on your stomach tickles.

“Yes, a shower,” Namjoon replies pushing you back slightly so he could slowly stand, caressing your hips on his ascend, stepping out of his pants.

Your height difference so much more looming now that his chest was just within your eye-line. The gentle ripples of his body are hard to not stare at.

He laughs softly as your gaze hasn’t left.

“You’re adorable,” Namjoon smirks taking your hand to follow you to his bathroom.

Everything about it is strangely familiar. His apartment is a mirror image of yours after all. But it’s not just the layout but the walk itself. Void of any uncertainty and nervousness that comes with a new encounter like this.

With Namjoon it’s not there. It’s easy. Relaxed. And you’re so sure of yourself there’s no need to worry or doubt anything that comes next.

He turns on the bathroom light, and lifts you onto the counter with ease. The quickness of it catches you off guard setting your heart to patter, but his tender kiss on your lips eases you.

The water is turned on in his large walk-in shower. The head and doors different from yours. Some renovations had obviously been done, making it easier for someone of certain age to manage. But it was still luxurious compared to your tub and curtains.

The steam was making the sliding glass doors fog as Namjoon practically glided back over to you in his light gray boxer briefs.

Your eyes look down right at his bulge. You could see all of him and his struggle to be set free. Impossible to ignore with a small wet stain on the outside where Namjoon was leaking for you.

Standing in front of you with a wicked grin, he parts your legs with his fingers barely touching your knees. You welcome him in as he grabs the hem of those worn panties.

“Take them off baby,” he says like melted butter.

You lift your hips to help them down. Your eyes never breaking their hold on his as he pulls. The tips of his fingers raking sensually on your skin makes you shiver with pleasure before he tosses them to the floor.

Legs still wide for him with nothing in the way, Namjoon looks down at you like a slice of cake. Ready to devour. No need to wait for a glass of milk.

It makes you feel powerful.

The courage allows you to push Namjoon back gently to stand in front of him on the warm tile.

“My turn.” You smirk, taking the elastic edge of Namjoon’s underwear to pull down and let your body follow until you’re kneeling.

Eye to eye with his beautiful dick, the sight of it almost makes you choke.

You swallow hard and feel your mouth start to water looking at the thick length, erect and with prominent veins around the shaft.

It’s the thickest you ever saw and longer than average. You knew he was endowed sitting on him but looking at it now gave a new layer of electric sanguinity.

Biting your lip you look up at Namjoon with a pleasured grin.

“Not what you expected?” He asked.

You shake your head. “A pleasant surprise.”

Namjoon chuckles adorably as he pushes hair out of his face while he looks down on you. The fleck of innocence on his face from the moment gone the moment you wrap your lips around his tip.

“A-ahh, fuck…”

The soft exploitive making your walls clench as you descend him deeper into your mouth.

He tastes good. His precum sweet even as you work your lips and tongue around Namjoon’s shaft with skills you forgot you had. His shaky voice and deep moans tell you you’re doing right. The throb on your tongue told you he was close.

Combing his long fingers up the back of your head to wrap your hair around in his hand tightly, you let the whole of him slide down your throat.

You gag and he trembles, pulling you off him gently by your hair. Spit and precum coating your lips like the messiest of gloss.

“Your mouth is too good. I’ll come if you don’t stop.” He pants, letting go of your hair to wipe your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Is that not the goal?” You giggle.

Grabbing you up from the floor, Namjoon lifts you up to wrap your legs around his waist. Another quick move setting your heart racing. Showing off his strength and  how easy you are to toss around in his arms once again.

“Not until I’ve made you come first,” he says and you could tell he was being serious.

 His eyes full and lips bitten you could see he was going to enjoy pulling pleasure from you. You felt it from the way he’s toyed with you all evening.

And now as his hands gripped your ass cheeks to hold you while he walks you both into the warm shower, he sucks your neck hard and deep. Pulling a whimper from your throat that made him smile.

Leaning you against the smooth tile as the rain-like stream coats your bodies, his mouth latches back on yours with a hunger. Both of you starving for the other as your moans and whines join the symphony of the shower.

You can’t help but to grip his wide back. Digging your nails deep into him as he pushes against you harder. Sandwiching your body between his and the wet tile, the desperate need to be filled making you throb between your legs.

“Joon…” you whine between lusty kisses and gropes.

Mmm, yes, baby?”

“I need you. Please…”

You’ve verbally never begged for dick in your life. And here you were. Your need was too high. He’s primed you too well. So much foreplay, anymore would have driven you off the cliff.

Your body thumped, ached for him. You couldn’t wait anymore and you didn’t have to.

Lowering your body slowly onto his hard, waiting inches the both of you gasp with the pressure. He looked big and felt bigger.

“Ohhh my g-god,” you pant with each new inch that slips into your core painstakingly. The wet of the shower and your folds make the insertion easeful. Namjoon’s guttural moans and cursing only making you wetter.

“You feel so damn good. Fuck. So tight,” Namjoon says, through uneven breath.

Completely sheathed inside you, you could swear that he felt inside your stomach. His slow drag out as he deliciously rolled back into you make your entire body tremble. Gripping his back so hard, indentations had to have been made.

“H-holy f-fuckkk, Joonie,” you groan as he picks up his pace. Hitting into you deeper and deeper with each lusty thrust.

“Damn, Y/N. A-ahh you’re so good! Yes, baby,” Namjoon groaned, getting faster and faster.

Your walls couldn’t handle much more. He was just so much and filled you to the brim. Pressing against your walls with an ache and pleasure that nobody has ever done before. You’re clenching around him it feels so good. So full.

“Fuck fuck fuck! J-Joonie. Y-you’re so a-ahh. Mm, big.”

“You take me so well,” he moaned against your lips, nibbling on the bottom as his hips rolled harder and deep.

The waves are building higher and higher in your stomach and the crash was close. So close you could almost taste it through the top of your head before it hits like a tsunami. Forcing the loudest moan out of your throat, you’re glad that you’re the neighbor next door to worry about.

“O-ohhhh! Ah fuck! Y/N!” Namjoon cries, squeezing your ass like his life was hanging on by a thread. “You almost made me come.”

He stills righting himself inside you as your pussy spasms around him as you come down from the floating high.

“Wowww,” you sigh with a laugh on your lips. The bliss coursing through every inch of your body only had room left for giggles. It was incredible. Your body weak yet it feels like you could do more.

You want more.

“You came so hard,” he chuckled, still nestled deep inside you.

You nibbled on your lip not believing how intense that was. Like a star just exploded inside your body creating a supernova so bright, it had to be seen radiating through you.

How was Namjoon not blinded?

“You were that good.” You replied, leaning in to kiss him tenderly. But he held you there with his tongue.

 Coaxing you back into the sensuality of the shower and that he was still very hard.

“The pleasure is mine. Literally,” he slowly rolled back into you making you softly moan.

Kissing with fervor, his hips fell back into a luscious rhythm that was making your head haze. His deep voice of praise for your body, how good you made him feel, and sexy you sound was going to pull another orgasm out of you.

But slight panic set into Namjoon’s eyes as his brows knitted together as his peak rushed again. Pulling out fast to come on the shower wall below with a deep toothsome groan.

The both of you panting from exhaustion as euphoria, you take that moment to look into his beautiful dragon eyes. They had cleared away back into his wide gentle ones. Clarity and peace back again.

“You’re incredible Y/N.” Namjoon smirks, leaning his wet forehead against yours.

You didn’t realize how hot and wet the both of you are until now. Your skin sliding against each other slow as he set you down on somewhat wobbly legs.

“You’re amazing yourself.”

He leans down to take your abused lips into his once more and it feels like an inhale of oxygen.

“Don’t go home tonight.” Namjoon murmurs soft against your lips.

You grin and slip the tip of your nose against his.

“How can I after that?”

Namjoon grins and his dimple pops again to make your heart clench. His wide hands sliding up your wet body as he cups your cheek to kiss you amorously, catching your bottom lip firm between his.

His kiss telling you the night wasn’t nearly over.

Never had you thought you’d end up here when you saw some guy moving boxes into the old lady’s apartment next door.

Never did you think you would end up in his oversized shirt, multiple orgasms later, snuggled against his warm chest in his bed.

This time on the other side of the phone. And it’s as cozy as you had imagined laying in your bed alone.  

You hope this is the first night of many like it, now that the wall between neighbors had finally come down.