#mami2

nsfw warnings: *deep breaths*, multiple smut scenes, public sex, fingering, kim namjoon lol, yoongi l o fucking l, the chain stays on but who the hell is shocked, protected sex, oral (f rec), cowgirlinggg, voyeurism, exhibitionism (ish.. you'll see lol), yoongi's tongue (multiple reasons), dirty talk good sweet lord, everyone is hot i swear to GOD, jung hoseok is a problem i wish to have, spanking, head/hair pulling, back shotsss, manhandling, namjoon can talk ur clothes off, feelings...?, you will fall for everyone and i am not sorry, kissing bc this is now a required warning y'all told me to put sdlkfjdskl

Before you know it, time passes and passes.

Weeks go by and you keep your options super open, with the occasional run-in with Yoongi and the strangely refreshing dates with Namjoon. 

As much as you want things to move forward with the latter, he’s kept every meet-up early and short, and he always checks his phone with pure concentration before heading out. 

Did you think about whether or not he had a girl already? Absolutely. But just being able to have nice dinners and talk was pretty fucking harmless considering. 

If Namjoon finally decides to cave in and split you in two, maybe you’ll re-evaluate. But you hope that happens sooner rather than later because you are aching to feel anything he’d give you. 

That and the frustrating fact that he looks more and more attractive with every damn date.

Speaking of attractive things… 

One dingy, smoke-filled event on south side, just as you were cussing someone out for slapping your ass, it was Yoongi that shocked you by stepping in, quietly walking up before taunting the guy with frost on his tongue,

“You wanna try that again?”

“Fuck outta here, man. Just having some fun.”

When your surprise of a savior aims one slitted eye over his shoulder, he asks, “This true?”

And your arms fold in calm revenge. “No.”

“Didn’t think so.” Turning back to your harasser, Yoongi simply eases, “I’ll let you off this time, but only cus she can hear me.”

A shiver propels up your spine.

“But if I see you touch her again, we’ll have some fun out back after the show.”

Safe to say, it didn’t matter if Yoongi saw the guy or not. 

Because he definitely saw you after the showcase, right before you tugged his stupidly hot tracksuit wearing ass into the nearest bathroom.

—

—

Ever since the first, all your dates with Namjoon have been innocent.

So it sends shivers across your arms when something slips from his lips and into your ears. Something so spiced that you think he can see your thighs squirm on the cheap vinyl booth you both occupy, 

“I gotta say… I didn’t expect us to talk this much.” 

Breath hitching, you slowly turn, fixated on the veins running down his arms while admiring the way neon lights make rainbows of his chains. Not giving much of your own thoughts away, you simply ask, 

“This time? Or at all?”

“Honestly?” His smile coats you in a layer of warmth. Which is strange considering how it makes you freeze over. “I don’t usually do dates.” 

What?

Immediately, you move away just to pin him with shock. “Wait, really?”

Namjoon tenses. “Oh, shit. Was that bad to say?” 

“No, I”—you laugh in pure relief—“Neither do I.” 

“No fuckin’ way,” he challenges with a grin, shaking his head when you nod multiple times. “Nah. You can’t tell me your fine ass has never gone out before.” 

“First of all,” you tut, smirking at his true nature coming through, “This ass has been taken out more times than yours.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” Flipping your head, you give him a mocking once-over, feigning boredom even though you wanna mount those goddamn thighs. “I just don’t waste my time dating.” 

“Then why’d you keep coming,” he asks. 

To which you counter with a coy, “Why’d you keep asking?”

Namjoon’s smile grows and grows, and you’re enjoying where this is going an obscene, disrespectful amount. 

Instead of responding, he simply lifts an arm to skirt knuckles up the front of your dress, finally looping one under the necklace dangling from your neck. When he presses a bold thumb down, you cease breathing as he softly tugs forward, your entire body following without resistance. 

And right as your lips hover against his, he admits, 

“Cus if I asked you anything else, you would’ve ran.”

Oh, fuck. 

Butterflies spring inside your belly at his insinuation, and you can’t help but fall for his trap when you taunt, 

“Try me.” 

What the hell is Namjoon gonna say? Based on your earlier conversations, you could tell he has a way with words. You don’t have to spell a single thing out for him, that’s for damn sure. 

The smirk you get is pure sin before he moves to your ear, his mouth hidden from the rest of the bar and hot breath stroking your neck. Anticipation keeps your body fully alert, and yet it still doesn’t prepare you for whatever comes out of this dude’s mouth. 

“Like if you’d ever let me paint those tits.” 

The fuck.

“Or if you’d let me be the first to make you squirt.” 

The fuck?

Your exhale comes out stilted before stuttering out, and your chest physically heaves because—

“What, that’s all it takes to make you shy?” 

Holy shit, you haven’t felt this way in years. You can’t even think about a response as the hand on your necklace slides downward, a finger lowering your dress the tiniest bit before letting it spring back. 

“Come back to me, baby girl,” Namjoon snickers. “Or do you wanna—fuck.” 

Finally.

Your lips finally spread in triumph, manicured fingers splayed over the rising tent in his dark pants. Recovering hard and fast, you go on the offensive, 

“How about painting my face instead.” 

Namjoon’s exhale is a borderline groan. 

“And you wouldn’t be the first, but we can pretend.” 

Another rough hum expels, and you lean forward until you practically kiss his neck, giving his clothed bulge a squeeze before you finish with a lilt, 

“But you can be the first to finger fuck me in a bar.” 

“Fuck.” 

You’re in a booth in the back. And observing how sloshed everyone is tonight, you know that no one will notice. 

But the possibility that someone still can is what thrills you. And Namjoon, too, based on the way he twitches under your palm. 

Fucking hell, he’s huge. 

Truly, you’re fine if he drags you to the nearest bathroom and splits you in fourths. 

“Spread those pretty legs for me.” 

Ah, he’s down to put on a little show? You can very much settle for this, too. 

Because ever since forever, the point of no return is your favorite place is linger. 

When Namjoon slides a hand over your thigh, your eyelids lower to near closed, and you peer at his expression with the anticipation of a hunter, brow ticking at the confused look on his face. 

“You scared, baby?” 

“Far from it,” you purr, corner of your mouth lifting in hazy victory. Gloating before the battle even starts? Very much your style. “Impatient is more like it.” 

“Good,” he hums. “Kinda wanna make you beg.” 

“I dunno.” You outright grin before moving your hips forward a bit. The pads of his fingers are so close. “You might wanna drop the act and just touch me already.”

He seems to take that as your final warning, and slowly slides further down your warm thigh until he makes glorious contact with your slicked cunt. You don’t know exactly how wet you are but you definitely see Joon’s reaction. 

And his eyes blow darker than dark. “Oh, fuck.”

A gasp leaves your throat as you jolt, eyes fluttering at the way Namjoon swipes his fingertips over your sex. He knows what he’s doing and if you’re honest, you’re a bit jealous of all the ones that gave him that experience. 

“Putting this ass in nothing but sundresses,” he says against your neck. “Can’t believe I fell for the small talk.” 

A sigh escapes before you have a moment of clarity, and you bite your lip when he nips at your column. “I kinda liked the small talk.” 

A breathy laugh. “Me, too.” 

A swipe of his tongue makes you shudder, and you give him more access as you spread your thighs across cheap vinyl. The rest of the crowded bar is forgotten, large fingers sliding up your folds snagging every ounce of your attention. One stroke, two strokes, and a third that soaks your core as you struggle, 

“Maybe we can… Do more… Next time.” 

Chuckles rumble down your shoulder and, with a quick thought, you are positive that your tits are dangerously close to spilling out of your dress. 

But his voice drags across coals, cutting through you with lazy ease, 

“We can fuck next time, too.” 

When you hum, a sigh escapes again before you realize what he means. “Wait,” you pant, mind starting to blank as he’s getting you closer and closer to the edge. “What—”

Another finger joins the first, which effectively erases any thoughts or realizations you just came to. Instead, your brain turns to mush, and your head finds his muscled chest to rest. 

His laughs roll down your shoulder and settle between your breasts, 

“So fuckin’ tight.” 

Feels way too good. 

“Sucking me all the way in.”

You huff out, thoroughly wrecked and needing release so badly that you might alert the whole place when you reach it. “I’m so close—”

“Lemme feel you, mami.”

Oh, fuck.

The way that came out of his mouth was so smooth and rough at the right edges, and your mind blanks as you pulse wildly around long fingers. 

“Just like that,” Namjoon praises. “There you go.” 

Fuck, your body’s locking as you try so hard not to arch too far, hands finding anything to grab before seizing the table and his solid thigh.  

The waves keep coming and coming, clogging your ears so much that you can’t ever hear the rest of what Namjoon is saying. 

All you can feel is the rumble of his chest as he growls, heartbeat bumping into your shoulder blade. 

Finally, you start to come down from your high, the bass of the bar and melodies of music and conversations filling your ears. As you feel Namjoon smear your inner thighs with lingering slick, he offers a husky,

“Goddamn.”

Fucked out and ready for the rest of the night, you can only hum in agreement.

“Shit,” he grits, squeezing your knee. “Shame I gotta go soon.”

Wait. 

What.

You snap your head towards him. “Really?”

He just shrugs. “Telling you. Didn’t think we’d talk so long again.” 

“Huh?” Your brows furrow deep. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

He just laughs, leaning in so much that you can physically feel his stupid smile against your neck. 

“Cus I’m in no rush,” he explains, kissing your skin while cupping you again what the fuck he did that just right. “Fuck, you might be addictive.” 

“Wait,” you halt his movements, chest heaving with want and disappointment. “Why’re you leaving again?”

“Trust me, if it was anything else, they could fuck off.” 

They?

Oh, fuck that. 

“Hold up.” You grip his forearm, hating how it feels so good in your hand. “You’ve been dipping for someone else?”

You will not be left high and dry for that. Even if Namjoon just gave you one of the hardest orgasms you’ve had in awhile. 

“What? No.” Your date immediately softens, looking you right in the eye. “If I didn’t have shit tonight—hey, look at me—If I didn’t have this tonight, I’d be taking you home.” 

You let your chin be held a little longer in his wet fingers that smell like you, moving away with a twinge of hurt. “So what’s up?”

“Chill, baby,” Namjoon softly orders. And for some reason, he does it in a way that actually quells you, when normally you would be even more upset. “I got a thing.”

Well that didn’t last long. 

Your repetition comes out flat. “A thing.”

“Uhh. I mean. A performance, maybe?”

What in the hell kind of… Is he just trying to get with someone else after copping a feel? Does he think you’re stupid? 

Maybe you should leave before he can peace out. How embarrassing. 

“You know what,” you start, grabbing your bag. “If you got someone else to get to then I’m out—”

“It’s not that, it’s.” He scratches the back of his neck with rapid strokes. “I dunno, it’s like. Weird to talk about? I guess?”

“What, are you a stripper or something?”

“A stripper?” Namjoon blows out amusement. “That’d be much easier money but no.”

You’re so confused. What other kind of performance would he be doing this late? “Then what the fuck are you trying so hard to hide?”

He laughs to himself, eyes finding the table and cheekbones rising high. Is he embarrassed? Or just lying? 

Red flags have never been so vibrant, and you’re only planning to wait three seconds before you—

“I rap.”

You blink. “Huh?”

He turns to you, fingers pointing to his stomach before palms plant at his sides. “I’m a rapper.”

You stare.

“A… Jesus, okay, I’m a battle rapper.”

He’s a…

Oh.

Thinking of the other ones you know, Namjoon’s either the shyest rap artist ever or absolute shit at selling himself. 

Well. Both can definitely correlate. 

But he was being super humble before, so maybe it’s just his personality? You’ve never seen him elsewhere outside of the gym, and his outfits haven’t given anything away.

So you very directly call his bluff,

“You’re a shit liar, Kim Namjoon.”

“I’m not lying!” he laughs through perfect teeth. “And I’d prove it to you, too, but. You’d be bored as hell.”

He’s being so ridiculous that you chuckle with furrowed brows, confused and so oddly endeared by this man. It’s enough to make you sit back down fully, shaking in disbelief.

“You’ve got be the worst rapper I’ve ever met.” When he kicks his head back, you keep laying into him, “How are you gonna campaign against yourself.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I swear...”

“You can take me to a bar but you won’t let me hear yours?”

“First of all,” he finally says, cheekbones still high, “That was fuckin’ good.”

“Why thank you.”

“Second. Smart ass,” he says as he quickly tugs you back against him so heavenly. “…Actually, you know what? Fuck it. You’re gonna come watch me next time.”

“What makes you think there’s a next time?”

Namjoon swoops in, breathing in your perfume while his hand squeezes your inner thigh. 

“Cus that’s when I get big money. And then I’m finally gonna fuck the shit outta you to celebrate.” 

“So what you’re saying is you have a type.”

Your pillow is swiftly thrown.

And Hobi catches it with a laugh, looking way too dashing in his outfit for you to be mad. Although.. his jacket would look a lot better with no tank underneath. 

“I don’t even know,” you groan. “But I’m just hoping this guy is good, too.”

“Ooh, what if he isn’t?” Hoseok walks to your full-length mirror, leaning forward to check and adjust his bangs. “Are you gonna let him down easy?” 

Already decided. You play with your sheets, silk dress hitching up your thighs as you adjust a leg onto your bed. “I would,” you admit. “Joon seems like a really nice guy… I think.” 

Your roommate promptly spins. “What do you mean.” 

Looking up, you watch his protective gaze with a rueful one. “I dunno. I think I’m just looking into things too much.” 

Walking over, Hoseok dips the bed beside you, touching a clothed thigh against your knee. When he tilts your chin up with a finger, he holds it there. “Listen to your gut, okay?” 

“Yeah, I will.” You roam your eyes down his outfit, salivating at the way his top fits on his waist and the beautiful cut of his pants. “Where are you going tonight, anyway? You look hot as fuck.” 

“You think so?” He moves his hand away to flick his jacket, slim fingers catching your eye and reminding you what they feel like in your— “The crew’s going to a new bar downtown, it’s jazz night.” 

“Jazz night? Sounds fun.” 

You know there’s no energy in your words. And you know Hobi catches on because his whole body turns empathetic.

“You want me to stay?” 

Pouting, you slowly nod, one thin strap of your dress falling down your slumped shoulder. “I do. But you don’t have to just because I’m being moody.” 

“Not moody,” he corrects, lying on his side and digging an elbow into pink sheets. “Just being real.” 

Smiling with no teeth, you cast gratefulness as he holds your knee, “I’m always real with you.” 

“I know.” Rubbing your lotioned skin, Hoseok’s eyes suddenly shroud over, dark tendrils falling over his forehead. “Can I be real with you, too?” 

“Always.” 

“I kinda wanna have you in that nightgown.” 

Laughing, you take in his slow grin as you slowly cover him with your body, relishing in the scent of his dashing cologne and brushed teeth. He’s already hard beneath your core, and you stare down as his gaze zips straight to your sloped dress over your chest, 

“If you buy me a drink at that bar, you have a deal.” 

Suddenly gripping your ass, your roommate’s words come before a spank, “Baby, we aren’t going anywhere after we’re done.” 

“Fuck,” you gasp. “Sounds good to me.” 

“Good.” He squeezes your ass before smacking it again. “I already decided as soon as you gave me that pout.” 

What? Did he really? 

Confusion leaves you in blinks before you let Hoseok change your positions, your back nestling into your sheets and your skin feeling the cold, rough material of his leather. Overtaken by fresh, musky scent again, you breathe him in with a satisfied hum as he descends on your neck. 

“You can’t give me this power,” you groan as he kisses your column. When your hands slide over his cut torso, you somehow find the words to continue, “I’ll use it too much.”

“You have”—he deepens the next smooch to your throat, shoving you to the side and releasing butterflies across your chest—“A lot more power than you realize.”

The scratchy way those words leave his mouth make you dizzy. So, so dizzy, for so many reasons, and you don’t know if you want to sort them out later or much much later. 

But it all flings out of your system because Hoseok thrusts forward and you forget every single thought, gritting your teeth in a moan and straining your neck back. 

“My roomie’s so sensitive,” he chuckles, low and gravelly and everything you need. “I love it.”

“And my roomie’s decisive,” you finally tease back, settling back into this safe territory you both established. That got scary for a sec. “And I love it even more.”

When Hobi pushes up for a kiss, you welcome his expert mouth, trying to remember when you both did this last and wondering why you don’t do it more often. 

And promptly ignoring the little fire starting to kindle in your chest. 

—

—

The days keep drifting by like clouds. 

And that’s kinda how you feel, slowly but serenely going through your daily routines, making moves, and reaffirming your ever increasing confidence in every aspect of your life.

You even hit some big milestones for your personal goals, which gives you another layer of sheen that Hoseok cannot stay away from—which you don’t ever pass up because he’s creating his own path in the music and dance world, too.

The dates with Namjoon have stalled, but you aren’t phased. Now that you know what he’s really about, you can give him time—if he’s telling the truth. 

But you’ve already decided to give him the benefit of many doubts, and just let him down and move on if he’s playing around. You have plenty more things in life going for you, what’s one liar gonna do? 

Well. That line of thinking would usually work if it was concerning most. 

But the fact that Namjoon makes you shy just thinking about him is different and stupid and god you need to get back to work!

Kim Namjoon. Rapper extraordinaire. 

…Allegedly. 

You burst into a fit of laughter before going back to typing on your laptop.

—

—

One night, you offhandedly ask Yoongi why he’s never taken you back to his place.

But he’s eating you out so fucking good you don’t care that he never replies.

He probably doesn’t invite anyone over. Seems way too private for that, which you can understand, too. You don’t want any of the people here knowing where you live since you frequent so often. 

His sloppy licks and sucks make your head swim with lust as you grip the sink behind your back for dear life, and when he digs those fingers into your ass, you’re a goner. 

“Taste so.. fuck,” Yoongi growls, yanking you closer and causing your hands to slip. The sound of warning you make goes completely ignored. “Can’t believe you almost left before my rounds.”

“I told you,” you huff out, eyes closing shut and one hand traveling to his hair. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Not right now you don’t.” The grit in his voice is shudder-inducing, releasing all sorts of butterflies in your stomach. “You’re staying right here on my face.”

Fuck.

Wait. A second. 

Is Yoongi being… Possessive?

Your tug on his hair pulls a groan from his depths, “Fuck, just like that.” 

“Oh?” Your dark laugh precedes the way you yank him away from your cunt, eyes blown out watching his own turn into slits while his mouth curves upward. “Is that how it is?”

Without moving a muscle, Yoongi shines teeth. “That’s exactly how it is, doll.” 

Fuck. “Then get back to it,” you command, heart fluttering when he chuckles against your folds. “I want everyone to know how I taste.” 

“They already know,” he assures. “But I can remind them again.”

You moan. “That’s so fucking hot.” 

Yoongi spreads your legs further before his voice smokes, “And you taste fucking insane.”

Cackling, you melt at his newfound energy as he feasts again, thrusting yourself onto his tongue and marveling at how good he treats your cunt.

But a question comes into your mind as your head lolls to the side, words gasping out between his tongue swirls and laps, “Hey.. have you.. heard this guy.. named Randa? Apparently.. he’s.. taking over the west side.”

Abruptly, Yoongi stops, pinning you with a glistening scowl. “Fuck that guy.” 

Oh.

“And when we’re fucking? I don’t wanna hear you say anyone else’s name but mine.”

Oh.

The most devious smirk cuts through your face as your chest beats loud loud loud and fast. “And if I don’t give a shit what you want?”

Yoongi shoots up so quick you only get half a laugh in, your chin gripped between slick fingers and your cunt pulsing on feral instinct. His breath fans your squished features before he lets out a huff of amusement—or is that pride?

“Knew you were my favorite for a reason.”

And his lips claim you so hard and strong that you taste yourself at the back of your throat. 

—

—

Today’s the day. 

After your date with Namjoon, you get to see whatever the hell he’s been doing, ready to tease him to hell and back or be pleasantly surprised. 

You hope it's the latter, but based on the way he’s been so quiet about things, you aren’t quite sure what to believe. 

But the light dinner at a west side dive is nice. When you question why he isn’t exactly eating, Namjoon only puffs out a tiny laugh, 

“Too nervous.”

“About your battle?”

He gives you a look of shock before reeling it back in. “Uhh, not exactly.”

“Then what’s wrong, babe?” You ask, blinking right when Joon does at your sudden nickname drop. Hopefully you aren’t as obviously thrown off as he is. 

“It’s just…” He looks down at the smooth lacquer of the bar before admitting, “You’re gonna be there.” 

Your laugh comes out so full. Because this man is unbelievably adorable. “Why is that bad!” 

“Because!” Namjoon flashes a damn good smile when it takes up his whole face. God, you like it way too much. “I dunno if you’re gonna have a good time or not.”

Wait. He’s worried that you won’t… enjoy yourself? This isn’t about his performance at all? 

Who the fuck is this guy? 

“Wanna know a little secret?” You wait until he gives you his full attention. Which is in milliseconds and makes you swoon. “I’ll have a good time with you anywhere.” 

Oh, those eyes… 

You actually look away. Because you’ll get lost in them if you don’t. 

When Namjoon leans on his palm, his gaze lowers to your lips, igniting a part of you that’s been begging to be set free. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you assure, taking a sip of your fruity drink and loving how your date didn’t judge you at all for it. “Unless you ditch me. Again.” 

“Hey, I’d never do that. You’ll always know when I’m leaving.” 

“I’m just saying…” you trail off, obeying when he brings your arm closer and the rest of you with it to stand at his knees. You say the rest to his dimples as he looks at you and nothing else, “I want you to myself after your thing.”

When the hell did you and Yoongi get this possessive? 

“You will, baby girl,” Namjoon soothes, sliding a hand up your lotioned, perfume-tapped neck. “Just like I told you.” 

“Good.” Mesmerized, you stare right at his smooth lips, licking yours before you can catch yourself. And the air around your bare shoulders turns electric, sparking at his lidded gaze and fizzing at the way his chest rises and falls. “You also said you’d win the whole thing.” 

This feeling… Is he gonna kiss you? Are you gonna kiss him? 

But Namjoon just smiles, wider and wider and coaxing the devil to come compete with his fever. 

“I will,” he claims with zero hesitation. Clutching your waist, he slides a bill over the bar before leaning forward and breathing you in, slowly vacating his stool and guiding you towards the exit. The way his palm lightly tightens around your dress sends shivers, but his words make them worse tenfold,  

“But having you with me is priceless.”

—

—

You get there and laugh because you’ve been to plenty of these rap battle events, but you play along. 

And from what you see on the haphazardly pinned posters,  Randa’s on the roster, too. 

Fuck. On one hand, you finally get to hear the legend for yourself. But on hands two three and four, Namjoon’s gonna have to go extra hard if he’s gonna win it all. He’ll have to go up against Randa eventually, right?

“So you’re telling me… You’re familiar with all this?”

You flash a smile, finally getting to talk about your wealth of knowledge, “Yeah! Gloss is who I usually follow but—”

“Gloss?” Joon’s nose immediately scrunches. “Weak.”

“Oh? Not feeling the king of south side, huh.”

“Tch.” Ah, he seems really annoyed. Whoops. “He’s alright.”

“Just kiss him already,” you tease through a smile. 

“I’d much rather kiss you.” Namjoon suddenly presses you into the hallway wall and yes yes yes this is what you’ve been wanting—dreaming of, for weeks. You’ve played along with the nice guy routine for long enough. This man wants you and it’s aggravating how patient he really is. 

But finally. Finally, Joon’s gonna give in and you’re gonna feel those perfect lips sliding on yours... 

“But not yet.”

Motherfucker! “Boooo.”

He laughs, guiding your waist back to the center of the dark hallway. Sauve and collected, he croons, “We have all night when I’m done, baby.” 

“You sound so confident,” you observe as you stare down someone eyeing your cleavage. “You that sure?”

“You have no one but yourself in the end,” Namjoon airily responds. As if he didn’t just drop philosophy on your shoulders, he slips an arm around them instead before whispering in your ear, “You wanna stay with me or in the crowd?” 

“Oh, uhh..” You get a choice? You wanna see him in his shining glory, but this is new territory. There are maybe one or two people here you recognize from south side but that’s it. “I dunno, actually. Crowd’s fine?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good. But sorry if I end up decking anyone.”

Namjoon fully laughs. “I’d fucking love to see that. But honestly, I’d probably get there first.” 

“I just wanna see you,” you request, hoping to everything above that Namjoon at least has some spunk. “Can you get me into the front?”

“Whatever you want.” 

Unable to keep in your patience, you reach and give your date and alleged rap monster a quick peck on the cheek. “You got it,” you encourage in a tone only he can hear, and you hope to all the heavens that gives him enough confidence to win as much as he can. 

When you walk away to the door leading to the audience area, you look over your shoulder, giggling when Namjoon hasn’t moved and stays touching lingering lipgloss on his cheek. 

—

—

The showcases on west side are so different from south, and yet, carry that familiarity present in these close communities. Shouts of encouragement, finishing lines when they’re meant to be caught on, and the loud yells when it’s a hit bar—all of these are present in every underground battle. 

You take your position in the front row without too many issues, and you manage to stand next to a guy that you’re outright jealous of for being more attractive than you. How does that work? How are you feeling so hot because of attraction and jealousy? 

“New here?” He asks, mouth tilting up and a pretty brow cocking. 

“Yeah, I’m here to see my…” What do you say? What is Namjoon to you other than your date? You aren’t really friends yet, are you? “My date.” 

“Cute,” the man chuckles, blond bangs bobbing with his every move. “Jimin.” 

Instead of giving him your name, you respectfully respond, “Nice to meet you.” 

Damn. He’s good. Even smiling with just his eyes, the man caught your game and pushes on, “Mm. And which one is your date? We can cheer for them together.” 

You know Jimin is being nice. But you’re so thrown by the fact that you don’t even know Namjoon’s stage name that your face must look horrified. 

Backtracking immediately, the man holds his hands up, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you. Don’t worry about—”

The crowd quickly shifts and shuffles, and you get bumped and are about to have some choice words when Jimin immediately throws out an arm behind your back, 

“Watch it!” He orders over his shoulder, tone flipping from soft to hard quick. “You guys know the rules. Shove and you’re out.” 

“Sorry, Chim! Everyone’s crowding in last minute, they know the matchup.” 

Fully turning around, you notice with wide eyes that the crowd has more than doubled. If you didn’t shimmy your way to the front already, it would’ve been impossible. 

Who are they coming to see? 

“Alright, alright, alright! Let’s bring our next head to head on the main stage.” 

The MC’s voice cracks over the mic, and you face forward again, wondering when you’d be able to see Namjoon and if he’s prepping his lines backstage. You bet he’s so cute checking his notes and going over everything—Wait. Namjoon’s walking on now.

And the crowd bellows. 

You outright flinch, not expecting the atmosphere to turn so raucous so fast. Are they screaming for him? Or his other opponent coming out with swagger and a hand raise to the crowd? Either way, everyone came to watch this matchup and Joon’s gotta have pulled a good amount. Wow. 

“This is the one y’all all came to see. Over here, we got my man JC!”

Shouts and whooops cheer for the guy, and you admit his quick smile is very disarming before he dips back into a calm facade. 

“And we all know who this is—” Holy shit, everyone’s cheering before he even finishes! “The one. The only. Randaaa!” 

It’s gotta be a fact that you’re the only one not cheering, other than JC’s posse behind him and his devout followers in the audience. Beside you, Jimin is cupping his mouth and throwing his head back in a yell. Behind you, the hollering is at an all time peak. 

But the reason you can’t find a voice is pure shock and awe alone. 

The guy you’ve been seeing. The guy so warm and humble you thought he was lying when he said he’s a rapper.

Namjoon slips on blacked out shades.

…Is Randa?

Why the hell didn’t he just lead with that?

“Okay, boys, you know the drill,” the MC continues, microphone projecting through the crowd. Showing a thick coin, he asks, “What y’all got.”

“Heads.”

“Tails,” Namjoon calls, and when he wins the toss he still keeps his eyes on the ground when offering, “Go ahead, sir.”

The crowd cheers while JC visibly shifts, and the announcer blares through the mic, 

“As expected from Randa! Let’s get it started.”

The next moments have your brain short-circuiting, rewiring, overheating overheating overheating. 

Namjoon is good. 

In fact, he’s a phenom. No wonder he’s taking over this side. You’ll be shocked if the other dude lasts two more showcases.

And you’re so turned on that you don’t even care if he wins a single thing. You want him and you want him to take you home now. 

—

—

The rideshare you both take lasts awhile, but you don’t notice where you’re going until the last few turns because you’ve been gushing over an embarrassed Kim Namjoon the whole time. 

“Holy shit, you were so—so—I don’t even know!” 

“Haha, thanks.” 

“I’m serious, how have I not seen you? How have you not gone worldwide? Are you and I just don’t know it yet?” 

“Nah, I haven’t. Yet.” 

“Exactly. No, you are ready—more than ready. Holy fuck, Joon, that was…” Feeling your cheeks so hot and heated, you let out a light bit of laughs while you shake out your hands. “I’m getting hot just thinking about it again.” 

He laughs beside you, pulling you into his strong yet giving side just a bit more. “Stop,” he elongates, “You’re gonna hype me up too much.” 

“And you would deserve it, hello?” 

Namjoon chuckles again, squeezing your shoulders and planting a kiss on your head. 

Butterflies. Birds. Wings of all types flitter about your chest, and you lock eyes with a man you have been completely surprised by all night. And you would lean in and kiss him with all your might, not giving a shit about the driver or the fizzy pop song on the speakers. 

If you didn’t happen to look out the window and notice you’re pulling into a gated complex on east side. 

Where you live.

And not just where you live, but where you live. 

Immediately, your heart drops into your ass seeing the front entrance. The lit center fountain that Hobi had to fish a drunk you out of comes into view, and you’re about to jump out the car before Namjoon softly speaks up, 

“Left gates, I got ‘em.”

Oh. You enter on the right side.

Wait, so… Wait. Namjoon didn’t figure out where you live, he happens to live here, too? 

Your head spins. Sure, you see each other at the same gym, but for him to be this close to you and you had no idea… 

This shakes things up, for sure. In a positive way or a scary one, you aren’t dead set on either just yet. 

But after the humble rapper gets out to open the car door for you, you’re more set on latching onto his stunning scent and fiery eyes anyway. The rest of your worries and the scary proximity to your own place can wait. 

—

—

“Nice place,” you muse, secretly looking around the spacious second floor apartment as if you don’t have this exact layout in your building, too. “Area’s a little quiet for a rapper, though, I’d imagine.”

“Gotta stay lowkey,” Namjoon says with a shrug. “And there’s a recording studio not far from here, so. I’ve been going over there sometimes, too.”

“Wait, really?” This is an intriguing development. He does see his own skyrocketing potential then. “You working on a mixtape?” 

As he sets his key down on a long kitchen bar, he responds while you both hear distinct sounds coming from the long hall in front of you. “Something like that.” 

Very, very distinct sounds. 

Instead of being bothered, you’re actually even more turned on. So when Joon assesses your face, you simply grin before he ropes you into his side, both of you laughing and making your way down the hallway. 

When you get closer, the feminine moans get louder and louder, and you realize that the upcoming door on your side is open. 

And through the entrance, you can clearly see a bed lining the side wall longways, a clothed body and mop of hair you know all too well kneeling on the other side. 

Face down in between the legs of someone you don’t know at all. 

“Dude!” 

Oh, shit. 

When Yoongi comes up for air, his eyes shift fast in recognition, but you can only look slack-jawed at his dripping chin while Namjoon kicks at the door with a chortle, “Damn, Yoong, manners!” 

He’s giving that woman heaven and hell. 

Good for her. 

Your stomach does something silly.

But before Namjoon can close the door completely, you hastily hold a thumbs up and smirk of approval to shade the feeling—just to catch Yoongi looking back with an incredibly peculiar look on his face as you get led away. 

Huh. 

What was that all about?

Never mind. You aren’t here with him. Is he here because of the girl? Or did he bring her home and this is his place? Fuck, that second one stupidly hurts, true or not.

“You guys know each other?” You ask as you’re brought into Namjoon’s room, eyes taking in everything and drinking in the sight of his wide bed. 

“Uhh.. Yeah.”

Wait. So if Namjoon is Randa, and Yoongi is Gloss… Gears click into place in your brain and you gasp. “The fuck? Y’all act like you hate each other.”

“All part of the game.”

“The… What…”

Shit, you can’t concentrate. Those chick’s moans are starting up again and while they sound divine, you start to feel a little sting with each one. And you know why. It’s petty and stupid but true. 

Yoongi’s never taken you home. Not once in all the times you’ve been with each other has he even mentioned it as a joke. 

But you rationalize as if it will make you feel better. Maybe those two have known each other? Maybe she’s the roommate?

Whatever. Namjoon is the one you’re gonna fuck and get fucked by tonight anyway. And it’s been a long time coming. You haven’t even ki—

“Can I kiss you.”

Stilling, you finally focus and see your date standing in the middle of his room. And you look straight at his eyes before sliding down to his mouth, watching him swallow in nervousness or anticipation and liking either option. 

Namjoon looks fantastic. Shoulders covered by his thick jacket and hair spiking out just right. His eyes hold so much promise and emotion that you lose yourself in them before you can even speak. 

Yes. Forget whatever the hell you just saw. This is exactly where you wanna be and you’re gonna have the best time of your fucking life.

You know Joon wants you. You know he can conquer every inch of you. But yet, he’s giving you the reins and even asked for a kiss? 

Marching right up, you tug him down and mold yourself flush, breath fanning his perfect nose and voice low, “You can do a lot more than that.” 

“I plan to.”

“Fucking do it then.”

And everything bursts into flame as he surges forward to claim your lips. 

Fuck, he can kiss the shit out of you, mouth hot and stealing your every breath as your clothes are both being torn at and discarded at alarming rates. Your heels are shoved off by your fingers before Namjoon yanks you up for another round, and your whole dress is tugged down so fast it sports a rip. 

You’re about to yell at him before you’re spun and led backwards until your legs hit the bed. Fuck it he can get you a new one this is everything you’ve been waiting for and more, your head spinning as soon as his tongue brushes against yours. 

Gravity shifts as you’re thrown down, and you chuckle in delight as he raspily asks, 

“You know how long I’ve waited for this?”

Blissed out, it takes you a moment to respond with one cracked, “Hmm?” 

“All those nights I pictured you. Right here.”

Fuck, the head of Namjoon’s bed is right up against the same wall the other bed is. Without even straining your ears, you can hear them through the plaster and wood. “Doing what?” 

“Whatever the fuck you want.”

“Oh, really?” You grin as Namjoon smothers you with his weight, mouth latching onto your neck with a ferocity only his rhyme schemes match. “What do you think I want?”

“I think,” he rasps, “You wanna slut it out.”

Fuck. “I really fucking do.”

“Then be my guest, baby girl.”

Finally.

You mewl as he rolls his hardness right into your center, and you hear more whines through the wall. And her sounds start sounding a little fuller, like she’s getting pleasured much rougher, just how you know she likes it even though she’s a total stranger. 

Because it’s how you always, always want it from Yoongi.

“You sure you’re ready for me, Joonie?” You ask in his ear, breath caught as he grips your hip with strong fingers. 

“No,” he admits, which is fucking attractive and he probably doesn’t even know it. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

You laugh, but there’s another set of sounds you hear through the wall now. 

…Yoongi? 

Fuck, he sounds… Those moans are turning you on so fast you’re already soaked through. Goddamn, he sounds fucking sinful, and much louder than you’ve ever heard him. 

“So fucking loud,” Namjoon grunts into your neck in annoyance. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t mind.” You slip your hands around his back. “We’re gonna be just as annoying.” 

“Yeah?” 

Is it because he’s in a bedroom this time? Not a random broom closet or a dingy bathroom? This girl probably isn’t fast like you. She’s probably a good one, especially being able to make him sound like that. 

Whatever the fuck either of them are, they aren’t quiet. And you want them to hear whatever the hell’s about to go down in here, too, if they’re gonna advertise this hard.

“You’ve never heard me,” you purr, realizing that Yoongi hasn’t really heard you for real, either. “I bet just my sounds would make you come.” 

Oh, Namjoon’s groans are delightful. 

Good god. You wonder how hard Yoongi’s pounding into her for her to sound like that. And you wonder how this beautiful, stunning man in front of you will end up making you sound. 

“I wanna hear you, too,” you demand as you arch your body against his, raking your nails across his broad shoulders. “Got it?”

His smile is so fucking deadly. And you can already tell he knows his way in bed, and your legs are itching with excitement. “Told you. Whatever you want, beautiful.”

“Fuck me then, baby,” you grit out, clutching his biceps so hard he hisses. “Exactly how you’ve been waiting to.” 

And this man launches you into the skies, shoving his clothed length into your underwear before ordering you to stay still. When you do, he gets up, pulling down his bottoms and letting his cock spring free as he reaches for a nearby drawer. 

Holy motherfucking shit. 

Even while having the time it takes for him to slip a condom on, you don’t have time to react before he smothers you again, mouth going straight for your chest and kissing all over before you even get your bra undone. It’s promptly flung over his shoulder as your nipples get thoroughly sucked, a large palm closing over your other breast and causing you to lose it, 

“Joon.” 

“That’s my girl,” he coaxes, lapping at your tits and sliding his arms underneath to grip the back of your neck. You imagine it’s so fucking easy to handle you, like he doesn’t even know how much you even weigh as he holds you with no issues. “Let go for me.”

Fuck, you’re already close. You’re so so so close and he hasn’t even— “Fuck!” 

“So wet for me,” Namjoon rumbles out with pride. “You can probably take most of me just like this.” 

That is a challenge and a lie and a dick you’re willing to die on. 

Sucking in a breath, you puff out a flimsy bout of arrogance, “I can take all of you.” 

“Convince me then.” He flips you over so you’re suddenly straddling him. “Get up and prove me wrong.” 

Giving you control already? He’s chivalrous. 

Cocking a brow, you push yourself up before lifting your ass, deftly grabbing his throbbing cock and groaning with him. You don’t know how the fuck you’re gonna take him, but you sure as hell don’t ever back down and you aren’t starting tonight. 

As soon as you sink onto his tip, Namjoon’s already grunting and pulling at his sheets. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” 

“So big, what the fuck,” you whoosh out, breathing through your nose and actually kinda wanting the moans from the other room back. They seem to have stopped all of a sudden wait no they’re back. Yes, your pussy needs this. You start to slide a little lower. “Joonie..” 

“Shit.” 

Rocking, you place both hands on his smooth, sturdy chest, sighing and mewling as he talks you all the way through it with the voice of an angel. Or a demon? Is it possible for someone to be both? 

You keep throwing your ass back, swirling around him, moaning louder and louder with each deeper and deeper thrust you get through. Your dulcet tones lift to the ceiling and fill the room, mixing with Namjoon’s pretty groans and creating a beautiful, luscious symphony. 

The way his hands roam over you make you feel alive, and as he pinches your nipples, you yelp and laugh at his obvious lack of control. This man is downright puddy between your legs, his voice hitching when you keep praising him. 

“I wish you’d fuck me, too, Joonie,” you whine, “I wanna watch you, too—”

The whole earth flips upside down as your breath leaves you in a rush, your body plunged into soft sheets as Namjoon ends up on top. You don’t even register him bending down to speak in your ear, the drag of his chain on your chest lighting your inner spark, 

“What did I say I’d do?” 

Fuck. 

“Tell me what I said, baby girl.” 

Oh, fuck. 

Mouth suddenly dry and unusable, you flounder for the right words, a light smack to the side of your ass making you mewl instead. 

“Use your words.” 

“You’re gonna…” You swallow, not used to being on this end of the control spectrum. But Namjoon’s commanding presence is so powerful you’re relishing in the newness. “Fuck the shit outta me.” 

“That’s right.” He smacks you again. “Now turn around and lift that pretty ass for me.” 

Your core pulses hard, ready for the wrecking of its life as you moan and do just as he asked. When you get tugged back, you whine again, hands clutching loose sheets and mind preparing for euphoria. 

“You’re so perfect,” Namjoon praises from behind, smoothing hands over your skin and clutching the soft area between your pelvis and waist. “God, I’ve been keeping myself away for far too long.” 

What? What does that mean? 

“Relax for me, baby.” When you do, he starts to slip inside, and the initial inch is already making you cry out in pleasure. “Holy fuck, you’re…Fuck—”

“Baby—”

As soon as he thrusts forward another inch, you’re already coming undone, shocking both of you and making Namjoon grip you so hard you know it’s gonna leave lasting pain. But you welcome it, wave upon wave overcoming your vision and washing you onto glistening shores. 

You don’t even realize what you’re doing until he smacks your ass holy shit are you slamming yourself onto him? How are you able to move? What are you even screaming because your ears are so clogged you can’t even think or hear straight. 

“Shit—”

Your head makes contact with the headboard, wood banging the wall and your cries of lust heating it in puffs. The muscles in your neck strain so hard you think they’ll snap with each hard thrust Namjoon’s now giving, and with a fleeting thought, you wonder when the girl’s moans on the other side of the wall stopped. You don’t hear her anymore but you hear—

A rough tug of your head makes you laugh, and Namjoon’s chuckle reminds you of the smoothest chocolate, so delicious you can taste it on your tongue. “You like that, huh?” 

You can only whine out a yes. 

“You gonna come again for me?” 

“Yes, baby.” 

“Lemme feel you then,” he grunts as he flips you around, shoving back into your cunt. “Make me come in this pussy.” 

And you do. You do, you do, you do. Your release and the two that come after are so potent that Namjoon roars with his own orgasm, shaking on top of you and holding you so close you can feel just how hot he’s running. Sweat covers the sheets around you both as he grips your back, and you don’t know anything ever other than this feeling of utmost shine. 

Before you know it, you’re both cleaned up as you lie a puddle of jelly, and Namjoon slides into his sheets before tugging them over your buzzing limbs. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe out. “You weren’t fucking kidding.” 

He simply laughs, and you want to nestle in that dimple. “Told you,” he whispers, so spent and falling fast into slumber. “You really are gonna be the death of me.” 

He’s gonna be the death of you, too. 

Exactly like someone else has been. 

Someone that was just on the other side of the wall. 

—

—

You should leave. 

As a principle, you don’t ever stay. 

But this time, you kinda want to, because Namjoon deserves more time for all the good he’s given you. 

…Maybe you will if he mercifully blesses you with another time. 

Slowly getting out from under his arm, you give him a kiss on the cheek before gathering your things. Slipping into a slightly ripped dress and painstakingly seeking out your heels in the dark, you finally find them both and loop them over a couple fingers. 

You feel horrible. 

But you never, ever stay. 

Besides, he'd politely offer to take you home. And you do not want him to know that means walking a few minutes instead of a far drive.

Closing his door with a muted click, you pad your way down the hall, noticing with relief that the other bedroom door is also closed. 

You’re out the hallway and into the living room, walking alongside the dimly lit kitchen and almost to the door. It’s chilly, but you can wait outside as you ring up Hobi that you’ll be home soon. It’s not a far walk anyway, since you’re just on the other side of the complex. Honestly, this arrangement is so close. Are you ever gonna tell Namjoon or…

A faint, distinct rip interrupts your thoughts. 

Immediately, all hair raises on the back of your neck, and you sense him before you even fully turn. It’s unmistakable. No one else can give you this feeling.

You’re unfortunately, very correct.  

Clad in only a simple tank and sweatpants, Yoongi lazily leans on the back kitchen counter, hair framing his face and eyes downward as he’s busy peeling a small, vibrant clementine. 

When you don’t speak, he slowly lifts his gaze. And his dark rasp shakes you straight down to your bare, curling toes, 

“You have fun?” 

—

—

so.. what do we think lmaooo 🦋 | join the taglist :D | feedback box

a/n: AHAHA oh god how do we feel, y'all........ i am quite out of words after this one but. well. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated. hope you're ready for pt. 3 :)))

a/n 2: all the names i’m gonna include that aren’t the members (or yijeong lol) are real life battle rappers! jc was one of the first ones i ever watched, and he has great diction and has a great inflection along with fun bars. anybody i namedrop will have rap battles linked, so here is one of JC's that i remember from back in the day versus chilla jones and it's just a fun time. battle rap is an art form in itself, and i would like to showcase these talented individuals whenever i can.