! HANi !!

Y/N was bummed that she was ending her day with a very blurry vision. Earlier, while exploring the nearby amusement park, she had absent-mindedly lost her eyeglasses somewhere she couldn’t even remember.

She had just finished dinner with her friends and was ready to explore more of Seoul’s nightlife, but after the heavy meal, she found herself craving a cigarette. Y/N and her friends decided to hang out along the banks of the Han River to let the food settle before taking a stroll. She was about to light her cigarette when one of her friends, Kira, stopped her, delivering a stern warning about public smoking. It was their first time visiting Seoul, and none of them were familiar with the local rules.

Scanning the area, Y/N noticed a group of guys standing and chatting nearby. Desperate for a smoke, she decided to approach them and ask.

“Hello… excuse me,” she said shyly, catching their attention.

“Do you speak English?”

The guy she addressed looked flustered and quickly pointed to one of his friends. “Him—English…” he said, adding something in Korean that Y/N couldn’t understand.

She turned to the man he indicated—tall, noticeably taller than her and the tallest among the group. He had a solid, bulky build and looked effortlessly stylish based on his outfit. Even with her blurry vision, Y/N could tell he was good-looking; there was something about him that seemed to glow.

“Hi… yes, I can speak English,” he replied. His voice was handsomely deep, something Y/N immediately noticed.

“Great. So, it’s our first time visiting Seoul,” Y/N said, gesturing toward her friends.

“And we wanted to smoke, but we’re not familiar with the laws about public smoking here. Is there a smoking area nearby?” she added politely, subtly lifting the cigarette between her fingers, unlit and clearly begging to be used.

He found the gesture strangely endearing.

“Oh yeah—see that?” He pointed toward a dimly lit gazebo a few steps away.

“If you see those small gazebos along the riverbanks, those are designated smoking areas.”

“Greeeaat, thank you!” Y/N said, bowing slightly in gratitude. She was about to head back to her friends when he spoke again.

“Actually, we’re about to smoke too. Can we join you and your friends?”

There was something about the confidence in his voice—a certain effortless charm—that sent a small shiver down Y/N’s spine. Unfortunately, she was still seeing the world through a blur.

“Sure, that’d be cool…”

She called over her friends, and as they walked together toward the gazebo with the group of strangers, the tall guy introduced himself.

“By the way, I’m Joon… Namjoon.”

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he replied as they exchanged a brief handshake.

They all lit their cigarettes, one after another. Soon, the area was filled with smoke and the low murmur of conversation. Y/N and Namjoon quickly hit it off, talking about random things. He recommended places to visit and things to do in Seoul. Meanwhile, Y/N found herself oddly drawn to his voice—it felt almost like a lullaby. She had always liked guys who talked a lot, and she was lucky Namjoon was exactly that type.

As they finished their cigarettes, Y/N mentioned that she and her friends were planning to go clubbing afterward. Namjoon turned to one of his friends and spoke in Korean. Y/N couldn’t understand a word, but the other guy seemed to agree easily. It turned out his friend owned a bar on the main street of Hongdae, just a five- to ten-minute walk from where they were.

After more conversation—and some persistent begging—Y/N finally convinced her friends to go out with Namjoon and his group for the night. Unlike Y/N, who was in her mid-twenties, her friends were nearing their thirties. They were work friends who had decided to take an overseas trip together, and they didn’t quite have the same energy she did anymore. Still, they couldn’t bring themselves to say no. It was obvious that Y/N was attracted to—and openly flirting with—Namjoon, and honestly, it wasn’t so bad. Unaware of who Namjoon really was, they found him charming and attractive themselves. They couldn’t really blame her.

Upon arriving at the bar, they were escorted to a VIP room with tinted glass walls overlooking the wild, hyped crowd below. Time passed quickly and in a blur; everyone was a little tipsy and clearly enjoying the night. The tension between Y/N and Namjoon had already shifted during the ride to the bar. The SUV was slightly cramped due to their number, forcing everyone to sit skin-to-skin.

Namjoon tensed when Y/N passed her lipstick to a friend seated behind them. As she turned, her breasts brushed against his shoulder, and he felt her breath against his neck. The heat made him careless. Softly yet confidently, he placed his hand on Y/N’s legs, slowly caressing the supple skin between her thighs. Startled at first, Y/N still found herself enjoying every second of it.

Now, in the VIP pit, while their friends drank and chatted animatedly, the two of them existed in their own world. Y/N stood with her back to Namjoon, a shot glass of tequila in one hand while the other lifted into the air, surrendering to the pulse of the blasting music. Namjoon watched her intently, took a swig of whiskey, then settled his hands on her hips. At the gesture, Y/N began to grind against him until they were dancing far too close.

Namjoon was losing his mind. He could feel himself growing harder with every slow roll of her hips. Leaning in, he pressed soft kisses along Y/N’s neck, still moving with the rhythm of the music. Y/N, though surprised, felt herself growing intoxicated by his touch. She wasn’t drunk—not yet—but the kisses on her neck made her feel dizzy all the same. In one smooth motion, Namjoon spun her around to face him and crashed his lips against hers, kissing her with reckless hunger.

Their make-out session lasted until they felt the weight of their friends’ gazes on them. Reluctantly, they pulled apart, straightening their clothes and trying to play it cool. Several shots of tequila and bottles of whiskey later, the group decided to call it a night. Some of their friends were clearly drunk, while Y/N and Namjoon couldn’t deny the sexual tension thickening between them.

Y/N didn’t even know how she convinced her friends to let her leave with Namjoon. She only remembered finding herself climbing into an unfamiliar van while Namjoon spoke with a slightly older guy she was sure she hadn’t met earlier.

Minutes later, Namjoon slid in beside her while the other man took the passenger seat. That was when Y/N noticed the privacy wall separating them from the driver. Before her brain could fully register that they were alone, Namjoon’s lips were on hers. The kiss was far more intense than the one they’d shared at the bar.

Without breaking it, Namjoon carefully lifted her, positioning her astride him. Y/N felt the growing bulge between her thighs, sending shivers racing down her spine. She tasted cigarette smoke and whiskey on his tongue—an intoxicating mix that only made her want him more. Slowly, she began to grind against his rock-hard length.

“Damn, Y/N…” Namjoon muttered before spanking her ass, the sting blooming into pleasure she didn’t mind at all.

His hand slid down to her folds, feeling her slickness. Y/N moaned at the sensation, shuddering as his cool fingers met her heated skin. Without warning, he slipped two fingers inside her, curling them slowly. Y/N broke the kiss and buried her face in his neck, a curse tumbling from her lips.

“Fuck,” the feeling was exactly what her body had been craving.

“You’re leaking, Y/N,” Namjoon whispered teasingly in her ear. She blushed.

“Damn right, I am,” she replied, lightly biting his ear as a breathy moan escaped her.

That was all it took to push Namjoon further. His fingers moved faster, curling in and out as he added a third. Y/N hissed at the sudden stretch, a flicker of pain cutting through the pleasure. Noticing, Namjoon slowed, hesitating.

“Shit, Namjoon—don’t you dare stop!” she protested, louder than she intended.

Namjoon smirked, eyes locked on her. Even like this—flushed, messy, undone—she was beautiful.

In an instant, his fingers resumed their work. His gaze flicked briefly to the small screen in front of him. Two minutes until they reached his apartment. He picked up the pace, determined to make her finish. His fingers moved with controlled urgency while his thumb circled her clit. Slowly, Y/N felt the pressure build low in her abdomen, her body clenching around his fingers.

“That’s it, babygirl. Come for me like the good girl you are.”

Aware that the privacy wall wouldn’t fully block the sound, Y/N bit back her moans, burying her face into his neck as a quiet whimper slipped out. She came hard, her body trembling. Namjoon felt her release but didn’t stop. He kept his fingers moving—faster now—drawing overstimulation from her sensitive body. The slick sounds filled the car as Y/N squirmed, fingers tangling in his hair, teeth sinking into his neck to keep herself quiet.

Satisfied at last, Namjoon withdrew just as the car slowed to a stop.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the GPS announced.

Y/N hurried back into her seat, smoothing the hem of her tight black dress and doing her best to look composed.

Namjoon let out a low chuckle, smirking as he met her eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“We’re not done, princess. Let’s go.”

Namjoon stepped out first, then gently took her hand to help her down. He didn’t let go as they walked through the expansive lobby of his apartment building. Y/N thanked the driver and the man in the passenger seat before the car pulled away.

As they headed toward the elevator, she could feel the slick warmth between her thighs. Her body clenched again at the thought of what awaited her upstairs. The anticipation made her blush.

Namjoon let Y/N enter his apartment first, then playfully smacked her ass as he followed behind. Y/N giggled, then caught the scent of the apartment—fresh, clean, with a hint of lavender. Sexy… she thought. She slipped off her heels, her feet meeting the cool floor, and her eyes shifted to Namjoon, now shirtless, standing with his back to her as he rummaged through the fridge.

Without hesitation, Y/N silently approached him, pressing her body against his back. Her hands traced circles over his pelvic region, brushing the waistband of his visible boxers. She pressed soft kisses to his back as she teased his aching groin.

“You’re starting a very dangerous game, Y/N,” Namjoon murmured in a low voice, almost choking as his expression darkened.

“Come on, Joon. You don’t need to stall whatever this is…” she teased playfully.

“I’m not stalling.”

“Then why am I still dressed?”

“You’re just impatient,” he said, turning to face her.

“You basically fucked me in the car with these,” Y/N replied, dark and confident, taking his hands and playing with his fingers.

Namjoon was amused, aroused, and entranced all at once. He wanted to take her immediately, to claim her completely—but he found himself staring at her pretty face. His hand cupped her chin softly, tilting her face toward his. He was about to kiss her when Y/N had other ideas. She knew he was ready and decided to provoke him.

Dropping to her knees, Y/N wasted no time. Namjoon felt a cold breeze against his rock-hard cock. She wrapped her hand around him and kissed the tip, realizing just how big he was. Namjoon jolted at the sensation of her soft, wet lips, letting out a guttural moan that only made her more confident.

Slowly, Y/N’s tongue worked from his balls to his full length. Namjoon couldn’t help but curse and moan her name. She tried to take all of him into her mouth, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as he hit the back of her throat—she couldn’t quite take him all the way in.

Y/N bobbed her head rhythmically, pleasuring him. She moaned every time she gagged on his cock. Namjoon gripped her hair, making it sensually painful, guiding her movements. Her pace quickened, and the pleasure was overwhelming, until he finally lifted her up.

“Fuck, babygirl, I’m not gonna last with that mouth of yours,” he groaned.

Y/N smirked at the compliment.

“I want to fill that tight pussy,” he said, voice low, rough, and intense.

He spun her around. Within seconds, her dress and bra hit the floor. Namjoon bent her over the cold marble kitchen island. Her nipples perked instantly, and she grew wetter as he pulled her panties down. He cupped her ass, spreading her to reveal her leaking entrance.

“Damn, babygirl, you’re like a leaking faucet,” he commented before plunging three fingers into her. One, two, three aggressive thrusts, and she released more wetness, exclaiming curse words from a mix of pain and pleasure.

Satisfied, Namjoon moved behind her to eat her out. His tongue expertly worked her entrance while his fingers roughly teased her clit. Y/N lifted herself slightly off the counter, but Namjoon pressed her back down.

“Stay down,” he commanded, sternly.

Her legs began shaking violently. Namjoon interpreted the signs, but wickedly, he refused to let her finish.

“Not yet, babygirl,” he said, standing as she did the same.

“Fuck you,” Y/N panted.

“Oh, I’m about to—until you can no longer walk. Now, bend for me again, babygirl,” Namjoon commanded, stroking his painfully hard shaft.

Y/N obeyed. Since she was shorter, her ass wasn’t fully aligned with his cock. Namjoon lifted her onto the counter so her feet no longer touched the floor. He slid himself along her pink, leaking pussy before slamming into her.

“Fuck,” they both cursed under their breath.

Y/N hissed, adjusting to his size. Her pussy stretched perfectly around him—so tight, so hot.

“Fuck, Y/N, fuck!” Namjoon groaned, ecstasy written across his face. He started with slow thrusts, then picked up pace, pounding her hard and aggressive. Each thrust hit the perfect spot, drawing moans and cries from her.

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N. You like this, huh?” Namjoon asked, shifting to slow, deep thrusts, ensuring every move hit precisely.

“Joon, you’re so big. Fuck me faster, please.”

“Look at you, horny little slut,” he said, slapping her ass, leaving red marks. “You like it fast, like this?”

“Fuck yes, just like that! Harder, Joon, please!” Y/N pleaded.

He complied, thrusting faster and harder. The sound of skin slapping, her wet pussy, and their moans filled the room. Namjoon yanked her hair with each thrust, tugging her neck along for a deliciously painful effect.

“Joon, I’m about to come. Let me come, please!” Y/N pleaded as her lower abdomen tied in knots again.

“Come for me, babygirl. Come.” Namjoon threw his head back, eyes closed, as her pussy tightened around him.

He felt her hot release coat his cock. “Good girl,” he whispered, smacking her ass cheeks again, intensifying the redness.

“Damn, Joon. So good…” Y/N gasped, breathless.

Namjoon slowed, letting her ride out her orgasm. He withdrew slightly, watching her cum drip from her cunt.

“Look at you, babygirl. Creaming for me, huh?” he said, amused.

Y/N lifted herself slightly, leaning on her elbows, teasing him.

“Are you planning to finish or what?” she asked, playful. She knew teasing him would only make him rougher—and she secretly loved it.

Namjoon’s expression darkened. He pulled her off the counter and slammed himself into her violently. Y/N whined, pained but thrilled.

He cursed under his breath, sliding in and out while cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples until they ached deliciously.

“I don’t like it when you’re impatient, babygirl. I told you, I’m gonna fuck your tight little cunt until you can no longer walk.”

Her teasing worked. Namjoon’s cock ravaged her hard. She could only moan and arch, her pussy completely filled.

“That’s it, Joon. Fuck me hard like that. Don’t stop until you fill me up,” Y/N’s voice grew loud and slutty, just how he liked it.

She guided his hand to her throat. Namjoon immediately wrapped it around her neck, firm but careful, making her breath falter. She moaned, approving silently. His other hand traveled to her swollen clit, circling it vigorously while keeping his thrusts fast and steady—doggy style.

“Oh my god… Joon, too much!” Y/N gasped, losing herself in the overstimulation.

“Shh, take it all in, babygirl. I told you, I’m gonna ruin you,” Namjoon whispered, licking her earlobe.

Her legs shook again. Before she could speak, his thrusts grew harder and sloppier, his grip tighter, and his fingers continued circling her clit aggressively.

Breathing was difficult, but she couldn’t stop him. Instead, she held his hand, steadying herself on the counter with the other.

“Fuck, Joon! I’m coming! Oh god! Oh fuck!” she screamed between moans.

“Come, Y/N… come for me, babygirl. I’m coming too.”

A wave of pleasure crashed through her again. Namjoon followed, groaning gutturally as he filled her. She felt his hot seed inside her sore, wet pussy. He slowly pulled out, watching as their fluids mingled.

Panting, they struggled to regain composure until Y/N’s leg gave out. Namjoon caught her just in time.

“You okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“Yes, sorry…” she murmured, shy and flustered, realizing just how aroused she was.

Namjoon chuckled, finding her reactions adorable. “So fuckable,” he thought, planting soft kisses in her hair as he pulled her into a hug.

“You’ve been a very good girl… took me so well,” he whispered.

Blushing, Y/N pulled away and reached for a napkin, but Namjoon stopped her.

“You’re not cleaning yourself like that, princess,” he said.

Confused, she was lifted by him, letting out a shriek.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and don’t think we’re done for tonight, babygirl,” Namjoon said softly but seriously.

Their eyes met. He winked. Amused, Y/N chuckled, the thought of going at it again making her blush with anticipation.

Namjoon walked to the bathroom with Y/N in his arms. He gently set her down in the ivory-white ceramic tub, then turned on the faucet—hot water slowly filling it. Y/N leaned back as the warmth touched her still-throbbing cunt, sore from the aftermath. Namjoon poured in a lavender-scented bath essence, then dropped a bath bomb into the water. He joined her soon after.

The tub was large enough to fit both of them, with space still left over. They quietly enjoyed the moment as the bath eased their tensed muscles. Only the soft fizzing sound of the melting bath bomb filled the room until Namjoon broke the silence.

“Are you okay? Does this help you relax?” he asked.

“Mhmm…” Y/N hummed in agreement, eyes closed.

Namjoon inched closer. She felt his hands reach for her thighs; the next thing she knew, he was gently wiping the mess that had dripped along her inner thighs with a bath towel—slow, tender, and careful. Soon, the warm cloth brushed against her swollen entrance. Without any intention of making it sexual, Namjoon made sure he cleaned her thoroughly.

The friction of the warm cloth against her cunt drew a soft whimper from her lips. Namjoon pulled back, tossed the towel aside, and asked lightly, “Are you okay?” followed by a quiet chuckle.

Still reclined, eyes closed, Y/N replied, “Stop asking me if I’m okay. I’m more than fine.”

“Are you okay?” she asked in return, a playful note in her voice.

Namjoon didn’t answer. Curious, she opened her eyes and sat upright, her gaze meeting his. He was slowly stroking his hard length, his expression soft yet serious.

“He’s not okay,” Namjoon finally said with a smirk, maintaining eye contact as his hand continued its movement.

A playful grin spread across Y/N’s face. She propped herself on all fours and slowly crawled toward him, closing the distance between them. Namjoon straightened his legs as Y/N knelt, locking his thighs between hers.

She pressed her breasts against his face, and he responded by sucking the supple skin around her nipples. His mouth worked eagerly, leaving marks across her breasts as Y/N moaned at the sensation.

Carefully, she took hold of Namjoon’s aching cock and guided it to her entrance. Slowly, she lowered herself, taking him inch by inch. A slight wince crossed her face as the dull ache spread through her already sensitive lower body while she adjusted to his girth. Their position sent a delicious sensation through them both. Gravity ensured she was fully seated on him—so deep that his tip brushed against her cervix.

Y/N started moving slowly at first, still trying to adjust. Both of her hands rested on Namjoon’s shoulders, arms wrapping around his head as she tugged at his dark locks. Still busy playing with her tits, Namjoon reached down and pulled the tub’s drain plug. The water slowly receded, revealing the sight of Y/N bouncing on his cock.

Namjoon swatted her ass, making her wince from the mix of pain and pleasure. He did it a few more times, leaving red marks across her soft skin. The electric sensation sent shivers down Y/N’s spine, igniting her further. Her pace quickened, and every time their hips met, the tip of his length brushed against her sweet spots.

Y/N leaned back, maintaining the fast rhythm, her palms braced against the tub floor. The position gave Namjoon a better view. She kept grinding on his cock—steady and relentless—her breasts bouncing with every movement. Namjoon, on the other hand, was lost in pure euphoria. His gaze stayed locked on Y/N as he watched her glistening pussy take his throbbing cock in and out, her tits moving freely, plump lips parted, eyes shut tight—all while moaning his name and letting out broken curses. He found her unbearably attractive like this.

Before long, Namjoon’s breathing grew ragged. He leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, hands gripping tightly around Y/N’s leg. He began to buck his hips, meeting her thrusts halfway. Y/N’s hand slid down to her exposed clit, fingers circling the sensitive bud as she felt the wave building. Seconds later, a loud, high-pitched, seductive moan tore from her lips.

She came without hesitation, not even bothering to warn Namjoon. He wasn’t far behind. Moments after her release, he followed, spilling himself deep inside her, making sure nothing went to waste.

Y/N lifted herself from Namjoon, about to collapse on the other side of the tub, but he was quick to pull her back against him. He wrapped his arms around her completely spent body, letting her rest her head on his chest.

“Damn, you’re so good,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Namjoon sat on the balcony couch with nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist. The night air was cool against his damp skin as he watched Y/N from across the balcony. She leaned against the railing, robe loosely tied, her hair still wet from the shower. Smoke curled around her face as she quietly took a drag of her cigarette.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Y/N simply shook her head, nonchalant, before bringing the cigarette back to her lips for another slow inhale.

Namjoon extended his arm toward her. She wordlessly passed it to him, and their fingers brushed for a second too long. He took a long, satisfying drag, exhaling toward the dark skyline. When the cigarette finally burned out, neither of them moved to light another. They just sat there, wrapped in the kind of silence that didn’t need filling.

After a moment, Y/N pushed off the railing and walked toward him. Without asking, she settled onto his lap, her legs sliding to either side of him. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealing the shallow dimple she liked far too much.

“Careful…” he murmured playfully. “You might trigger someone.”

She laughed softly and rested her head against his shoulder, her damp hair brushing his chest.

“I’m sleepy,” she said, her voice low, teasing. “Can I stay over? Or is this the part where you tell me I should go?”

Namjoon let out a quiet scoff, amused, his hand sliding to the small of her back.

“I could keep you here for a long time,” he replied gently, pulling her a little closer. “If you allow me to.”

The two stayed on the balcony for a few more minutes, the sexual tension that had never really left beginning to intensify once again.

The clock on the wall struck 3:31 a.m. Outside, it was cold and quiet. The neighborhood slept peacefully in the middle of the night.

Namjoon’s room was dimly lit by warm lights, the air conditioner humming softly as it kept the temperature just right. A robe and a towel had long since been dismissed onto the floor. The bed burned under their combined weight, and the only sounds filling the room were the slick slap of skin against skin, the low, guttural moans rumbling from Namjoon’s throat, and the series of broken curses and breathless, sinful moans spilling from Y/N.

As if the moments they’d shared in the car, in the kitchen, and in the bathroom weren’t enough to satisfy the lust they felt for each other, Namjoon and Y/N were fucking again.

Beads of sweat formed on Namjoon’s chest as both his hands gripped Y/N’s hips, aggressively pounding into her slick, leaking cunt. Her face was buried in the sheets, lips parted as she moaned louder than she ever had in their previous encounters. He was hitting all the right spots, and she could no longer control the sounds spilling from her mouth. Namjoon didn’t mind—her moans were sweet music to his ears, building his confidence with every strained cry and satisfying grunt she let out.

After a few aggressive thrusts, he spun her around. Now facing him, Y/N tried to catch her breath. A small break was all she needed; Namjoon felt even more intense than before. But before she could fully recover, he lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder and buried himself inside her utterly spent pussy once more.

“You’re making me crazy, Y/N… I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you,” Namjoon said through heavy breaths.

“Fuck me, Joon. Fuck me like you own me,” she answered, her voice thick with strained lust.

“Shit… babygirl, you feel so good. Fuck.”

Namjoon kept thrusting deep and relentlessly, his pace fast but controlled. His movements sent both of them into an unexplainable euphoria. His hands moved to her breasts, squeezing them firmly, her soft flesh fitting perfectly in his palms before he began teasing her sensitive nipples.

Y/N wrapped both her legs around Namjoon’s waist, locking him in and pulling him deeper into her. She drew him down into a deep, sensual kiss. Their tongues tangled hungrily, as if they couldn’t get enough of each other’s taste.

Unlike their previous moments, Namjoon was getting close before Y/N. His breathing grew heavier, his thrusts sloppier, his moans louder. He wrapped his large hand around her exposed throat, adding a firm grip that made her breath falter—never enough to hurt, just enough to intensify. Realizing he was close, Y/N decided to help herself reach her climax. Her hand slipped between them, fingers pressing flat against her swollen clit, rubbing with determination as she tried to match the rhythm of his hips driving into her.

“Come for me, Joon… yes, just like that, baby.”

“Fill me—fuck! I’m coming too… oh God, Joon!” she managed to cry out, her body trembling as he slammed into her hard and fast, his hand still tight around her throat.

Her words seemed to push him over the edge. She felt his hot release spilling inside her, and just like that, she came with him. Heavy breathing, curses, and broken moans filled the air as warmth began to ooze from between her thighs.

Namjoon slowly pulled out, watching the thick white semen spill from her. Then he collapsed on top of her, both of them completely spent. Satisfied.

Y/N woke up with sunlight hitting her face. Her whole body ached, every muscle stiff and tired as she shifted beneath the soft sheets.

Right… she realized slowly. She wasn’t in her hotel room.

Sitting upright, she found herself alone. Her eyes quickly scanned the room for her phone, and half-asleep memories from last night began surfacing in fragments.

She saw the time: 10 a.m. Then she noticed the navy-blue cotton long-sleeve she was wearing—way too big for her body. It hung loosely, more like a dress, soft and comfortable. A breeze brushed against her lower body, and she realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

She picked up her phone. A few missed calls and texts from her friends blinked on the screen. One read:

Hey, I forgot to tell you, I slipped a pair of contact lenses I bought last night from the shop across the bar. Don’t forget our lunch reservation at Namsan Tower. Ask your guy if he can drop you off. X

She spotted her bag on the floor beside the bed and immediately snatched it. Sure enough, there were the contact lenses.

Y/N quickly slipped into the bathroom. She washed her face with whatever cleanser she could find on the vanity and put in the lenses. Her vision finally restored, she began to take in her surroundings.

The room was clean, refreshing, with subtle touches of expensive taste. Her eyes landed on her underwear thrown carelessly on the floor along with a towel and robe. Blood rushed to her cheeks as memories of how embarrassingly messy she had been last night returned.

The apartment was unnervingly quiet. Convinced she was alone, she hurriedly grabbed her panties, then her phone and shoulder bag. Her gaze drifted to the nightstand—and froze.

A note lay there: “Good morning!” Beside it were two pills, the packaging labeled Plan B.

Her thighs clenched automatically, the memory of Namjoon spilling himself inside her multiple times sending another flush of heat and embarrassment through her. She wanted to disappear. Carefully, she picked up the pills and the note, slipping them into her bag. Not that she needed them—she may be the type to have one-night stands with handsome strangers, but she wasn’t stupid enough to risk unprotected sex. Of course, she was already on birth control.

Y/N gently opened the bedroom door, stepping into the spacious living area. No one was in sight. Once reassured, she moved quickly to find her dress and heels, which were scattered across the kitchen. Another wave of steamy memories hit her, only adding to her flustered state.

She considered changing into the dress but decided against it. She just wanted to leave, as fast as possible, and avoid Namjoon entirely—God only knew what else they might do if she stayed.

Slipping into her heels and fixing her hair, she gave herself one last glance in the full-length mirror across the hall. For a moment, she thought she looked cute in his oversized long-sleeve. It hung just right, like a casual dress.

She stepped out, trying to remember the way to the elevator. She closed the door behind her, leaving all the deliciously sinful moments with a handsome stranger behind.

Pressing the down button, she waited. A few tense seconds later, the elevator doors opened—revealing someone stepping out. She tried not to notice him, minding her own business, but something about the man made her heart skip a beat. He seemed momentarily surprised by her presence but moved past anyway.

Y/N hurried inside and pressed the button for the ground floor. Just as the doors began to close, a hand stopped them. The man from before. Their eyes met, and her chest tightened. Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs.

No way. There’s no way.

She wanted to slap herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, but her body froze. All she could hear was her own racing heartbeat.

Of course, she recognized him. She couldn’t be wrong. She listens to his music constantly—in the shower, during her morning walks, on airplanes, on trains, everywhere.

The man who had just stepped out was none other than RM of BTS.

Her mind spun. Was she going crazy? Thoughts raced: What if he thinks she’s a stalker? Does he also live here? What if he realizes that she’s not from here and gets mistaken as a crazy fan? What if he calls the police on her?

Their gazes lingered. RM let out a soft chuckle, impossible to read—was it amusement or disbelief? Before she could speak, he broke the silence.

“Pretending not to know me, huh, babygirl? After all we did last night?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her body stiffening even more. What did he just say?

She took in him—the height, the build, the hair, those dimples, that voice.

Her gasp escaped louder than she expected. There was no fucking way.