#nuts

It’s been a long day. You left when the sun was coming up, and now it is long gone. Your muscles ache, and all you want is to curl up against your boyfriend. “Namjoon?” you call out, dropping your bag on the bench. “Baby?”

Silence.

Walking further into the apartment, you pass the empty living room and enter the kitchen. Sitting in the center of the marble island, you spot a piece of paper torn from a notebook.

Writing. You know where to find me.

You smile, shaking your head as you set the paper back down. You know the drill. When he wants to lock in, he puts his noise-canceling headphones on and disappears from the world. If you call his name, he won’t hear you. If you stand in front of him, he might look right through you. Early in the relationship, you used to take it personally. Now, seven years in, you know it’s just how his brain works. You know how to bring him back.

Knowing exactly where he is, you glance toward the doors at the far end of the hallway. The terrace is his sanctuary when he wants the creative juices flowing.

You want to go check on him immediately, but you pause. It’s mid-May, and you’ve been running errands all day. The humidity outside has left you feeling sticky, sweat clinging to your skin, and you don’t want to wrap your arms around him like this.

A shower sounds perfect right now. You can wash off the day, slip into something more comfortable, and then go find him.

Heading to the master bedroom, you peel off your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Once inside the en-suite, you step into the large glass shower and turn the handle. Hot water runs down your back, instantly helping your tight shoulders relax. Tilting your head back, you let the spray soak your hair as you sigh in relief.

Reaching for the bottle on the shelf, you wash up quickly. The smell of honey and vanilla body wash fills the steam. It’s his favorite scent on you. He always buries his nose in your neck after a shower, inhaling deep like it resets him. You scrub your skin until you feel human again, watching the soap swirl down the drain. After turning the water off, you step out onto the soft mat, reaching for a towel to dry off your damp skin.

Fresh from the shower, you slip into your favorite nightgown. It’s black silk trimmed with intricate lace that dips low in the front and stops high on your mid-thigh. You skip the bra but slide on a matching pair of lace panties, loving how the cool fabric feels against your clean skin.

Retracing your steps through the quiet apartment, you slide the glass door open and step out onto the terrace. Since you own the entire top floor, the space feels secluded. The city lights of Seoul glitter below like a sea of stars. Up here, you are hidden from the world.

Well, mostly.

If the neighbors in the high-rises across the way had a really good pair of binoculars, they might catch a glimpse, but what is life without a bit of risk?

Namjoon is sitting on the outdoor couch with his back to you, hunched over his notebook, clearly in the middle of a battle with his own lyrics.

You walk across the decking barefoot. He doesn't hear you approach.

Watching him for a moment, you see his pen moving frantically across the page before stopping abruptly. He scratches something out with aggressive strokes, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The deadline for the new songs is in a few weeks, and he needs to have the lyrics ready so the rest of the group can start recording. The pressure is clearly getting to him. You hate seeing his shoulders tensed up like that. You just want to smooth every worry line from his forehead.

Stepping up behind the couch you reach down, gently sliding one of the ear cups off his ear.

“Hey,” you whisper.

He jumps slightly, his head snapping around. “Hey,” he breathes, twisting his body to look at you properly. He takes his headphones off completely, setting them on the cushion beside him. “When did you get home?”

“About thirty minutes ago,” you say, leaning over the back of the sofa and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Saw your note.”

He lets out a heavy, defeated sigh that seems to deflate his whole frame. You reach out, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “What’s happening, Joon?” you ask softly.

He drops the pen on the table, rubbing his face with both hands as a groan escapes his lips. “I’m stuck, baby. Completely stuck,” he admits, letting his head fall back against the cushion.

You hate seeing him like this, even though you know it’s just part of the job. The creative process always drains him before it gives him anything back. Moving around the furniture, you step between his spread legs to offer comfort the best way you know how, climbing into his lap and straddling his thighs. The silk of your nightgown rides up high on your hips, exposing your legs to the cool air as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Tell me about it,” you murmur.

“I’ve been out here all evening,” he complains, his large hands settling on your waist to grip you firmly. “I can’t finish one damn song. I have bits, phrases written down, but nothing makes sense together.”

He keeps talking, explaining the technicalities of the beat and the lyrics. It’s a cycle you know well. He needs to get the frustration out of his system before he can find the flow again. Listening quietly, you nod against his neck while pressing soft kisses to his jawline and cheek, letting him spill his thoughts. You know he doesn't need a solution. He just needs an anchor. He needs to remember he exists outside of the music.

Even though he’s frustrated with the song, his body reacts to you instantly. As he rambles, you start to move, rolling your hips slowly to grind your center against the growing hardness in his jeans.

He stops mid-sentence, his grip on your waist tightening as your movement distracts him from his spiraling thoughts. You pull back to capture his lips in a tender kiss, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck to hold him close. Breaking the kiss, you look him in the eye, smiling softly while your hips keep rocking against his erection.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you ask, grinding down harder on his lap. “Maybe I can take your mind off it? Give you something else to focus on?”

Namjoon lets go of your hip, his index finger tracing a slow line from the sensitive skin of your neck down to your cleavage. “Mmm. I think that might work.” He drags his finger over the black lace covering your breast, circling your nipple through the fabric as he murmurs, “I think,” his eyes tracking the movement of his own hand, “we should start by getting you out of this.”

You laugh softly as he hooks his fingers under the straps of your nightgown and pushes them down your shoulders. The silk pools at your waist, leaving your tits completely bare.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, looking at you with hungry, needy eyes that make you feel like the only thing in the world for him right now. You love him when he gets like this, so focused and needy. As he grabs both tits, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, you moan.

Lowering his head, he captures one nipple in his mouth, sucking while his arm wraps around your waist to hug you close. He pulls back for a second, lips wet and swollen. “Fuck, you taste sweet,” he whispers against your skin before diving right back in. “You smell amazing too.”

“That feels so good, Joon,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “Mmm, so good.”

Releasing your nipple from his mouth, his hands move up to cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones as he kisses you deeply. You pull back to reach for the hem of his t-shirt. He helps you by lifting his arms, letting you pull the fabric over his head and toss it aside.

You take a second to admire him. You catch the sparkle in his beautiful eyes and the hint of his dimples as he smiles at your inspection. You know this body better than your own. You know every scar, every mole, every dimple, every spot that makes him twitch. You love how big he’s been getting lately, the broad expanse of his shoulders and the thick muscles of his arms making you feel small and safe.

Grinding against him one last time, you stand up, letting the silk nightgown slide down your legs to pool at your feet. You step out of it, leaving you in nothing but a delicate lace thong.

“Are we really doing this right here?” Namjoon asks, a smirk tugging at his lips as he eyes your nearly naked body.

“What? Afraid someone will see the famous Namjoon of BTS getting his dick sucked by his secret girlfriend?” you tease, reaching for his belt buckle. “Do you want me to stop?”

It’s an old joke between you two. You’ve been together for seven years now and everyone at the company was fine with you going public, but you’ve always preferred to keep things low profile. You don't mind who he is to the world, but moments like this, out in the open air of Seoul, feel reckless in a way you usually avoid. But right now, you don't care about the world. You just want him to look at you.

He laughs, shaking his head. “Not a chance. Keep going.”

Dropping to your knees between his legs, you undo the buckle. Namjoon lifts his hips to help you shove his jeans and boxer briefs down to his ankles. He kicks them away and leans back against the cushions, spreading his legs wide to display his thick, heavy cock for you.

“Fuck,” he exhales, watching you wrap both hands around him.

You start pumping him slowly. “Tell me if that feels good,” you whisper, feeling how hard he is in your grip.

“You have no idea.”

Leaning forward, you swirl your tongue around the sensitive tip before sliding down. Even though you try to take as much as you can, your lips stretch tight around his girth, forcing you to pump the rest of the length with your hand.

Namjoon groans, his hands finding your hair. He gathers the strands gently, holding them back in a makeshift ponytail so he can see your face.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises. “You’re doing so good.”

You work him eagerly, bobbing your head while saliva coats his length to make it slicker. You know exactly how he likes it. You know the exact pressure to apply to the head, the exact speed that makes his toes curl. It’s muscle memory by now.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he murmurs, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones as you slide down. “God, I love you so fucking much.”

Hollowing your cheeks to suck him harder, you slide your free hand down to cup his balls, massaging them gently in your palm.

You pull off, your hand taking over to pump him. “What would everyone say if they caught us like this?” you tease, swirling your thumb over his wet tip.

He groans, his hips bucking into your hand. “Bet they’d say I’m a lucky bastard to have such a hot girl sucking my dick.” he grunts, his eyes filled with lust.

You hum, satisfied with the answer, and dive back down to take him deep into your throat again.

He hisses through his teeth as you take him deeper than before, your nose brushing against his pubic hair. You tighten your lips around the base, humming against the skin as you drag your mouth back up.

You love having this power over him. The genius leader, the man who speaks at the UN, reduced to a panting mess just because you’re using your tongue right. It makes your chest swell with pride. He is yours.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon breathes, his hands tightening in your hair to guide your pace. “Just like that.”

You don’t answer, too busy swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. You look up at him through your lashes, letting him see how much you love this. How much you love serving him.

“That’s right,” he growls, watching his cock disappear and reappear past your lips. “Taking my cock so well. So good.”

You make a wet, sloppy sound as you suck harder, one hand still working his balls. Namjoon’s hips snap up, fucking into your mouth.

“I’m gonna blow if you keep doing that,” he gasps, his hand tightening in your hair as your suction increases. “Stop. Baby, stop.”

You release him, sliding your mouth off with a wet suction sound.

“Just wanted to make sure you were ready,” you hum against his wet glans, pumping him a few times to spread the slickness. “You know how much I love sucking your dick.”

“Yeah, I know,” he breathes, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “And you’re too fucking good at it.”

Your knees protest at the hard decking as you try to stand. Seeing you struggle, Namjoon reaches out, his large hands gripping your waist to hoist you up effortlessly until you are standing between his spread thighs.

Namjoon sits up, pulling you closer until your inner thighs press against the sides of his face while you remain standing between his legs. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your stomach, his hands wandering down to your waist as you run your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails lightly against his scalp.

“I want you to ride me,” he murmurs against your skin as his lips brush your belly button. “But I need to get this out of the way first.”

His hands slide down to your hips, hooking his fingers into the thin straps of your lace thong. Instead of sliding them down, he yanks them sideways, making the delicate fabric snap with a sharp sound.

You gasp, grabbing his shoulders for balance as the ruined lace falls to the floor. “Joon! That was expensive. I bought those in Paris!”

He looks up at you, grinning as his hands slide up your bare thighs to squeeze your ass. “I’ll buy you a new one. Hell, I’ll buy you a thousand more just so I can rip every single one of them off you.”

He starts teasing your clit with his fingers, rubbing the swollen nub until your knees shake.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers, sliding one finger inside you. “So ready for me.”

He pumps his finger in and out while pressing his face against your abdomen, kissing your belly button with hot breath on your skin. “I love you,” he mumbles against your skin.

“I love you too,” you breathe, running your fingers through his hair. He says it like a prayer, and you feel it in your bones. After all this time, he still touches you like it's the first time.

“You feel so tight,” he groans, adding a second finger to stretch you wider.

He pumps two fingers deep inside you, making you gasp as you rock your hips to meet his hand. The pleasure is becoming too much, making it difficult to stay on your feet as your knees buckle. He slides a third finger in as he works you open.

“I need to open you up,” he growls. “Get you nice and loose so you can take my cock deep. You know that, love. I don't want to hurt you.”

Your legs feel like jelly, barely holding you up. “I’m close, Joon...”

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, speeding up his hand. “Come on my fingers. Soak my hand.”

You shake and scream, climaxing on his hand as your orgasm hits. He slides his wet fingers out, leaving your thighs coated in your own juices. “Come here,” he says gently, guiding you back down.

You move to straddle his lap again, your knees sinking into the cushion on either side of his hips. Reaching down between your bodies, you wrap your fingers around his thick cock to line him up with your aching entrance. You sink down slowly, gasping as he stretches you open. He is huge, filling every empty space inside you. His large hands grip your waist, thumbs digging into your skin to help pull you down until you are seated firmly in his lap.

“Fuck, this pussy drives me nuts,” Namjoon groans, his head falling back as he adjusts his grip on your hips to settle you deeper. “So tight. Taking me so perfectly.”

Once you are fully bottomed out, you rest your forehead against his for a second to catch your breath, savoring the feeling of being stuffed full. He reclines back against the sofa cushions, spreading his arms to give you full control.

“Ride me,” he says, reaching up to cup your tits, weighing them in his palms. “Show me what you can do.”

You start to move, lifting your hips and dropping back down slowly. Your breasts jiggle with the motion, drawing his eyes immediately. He squeezes the soft flesh, molding you as you pick up the pace.

“I could write a whole song about this,” he says, his gaze locked on your chest. “About how good you look riding my cock. About how pretty your tits look bouncing for me. You ride me so fucking good, baby.”

You grin, moving faster to snap your hips against his. “We could make a music video too.”

“Yeah, and it would be a fucking award-winning performance,” he laughs, slapping your thigh. “Harder. Make those tits bounce more. Give me a good view.”

He lifts his arms, interlacing his fingers behind his head as he leans back against the cushions, biceps flexing as he watches you work.

Your moans get louder as the intensity becomes too much to handle. Your movements turn erratic, desperate and Namjoon notices immediately. He knows exactly what you need to tip over the edge. He always does. He reads your body better than he reads any book.

Sitting up slightly, he grabs your tits firmly in his large hands. He knows how sensitive you are there.

Tugging at your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers. “I know you like that,” he growls, twisting his fingers to pull at the peaks. “You love me playing with your tits while you use my cock. Does it make you wet, baby? Having my hands all over them?”

“Yes! Namjoon!”

He gets rougher, pulling at your nipples while whispering in your ear.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs against your skin. “So wet and tight. Come on. Let me see you cum for me. Squeeze me dry.”

The combination of his thick cock hitting deep and the sharp stinging on your chest pushes you over the edge. You scream his name, climaxing hard. Your walls clamp down on him, milking him with every spasm.

“That’s it,” he praises, kissing your sweat-dampened temple. “Let go.”

Your internal muscles squeezing him are the final straw. Namjoon starts thrusting upwards, his hips snapping off the cushion to meet your downward slam. The friction burns in the best way.

You come back to your senses enough to match his energy. You bounce harder on his dick, grinding down to take him as deep as possible. His hands tighten on your waist, fingers digging into your skin to hold you in place as he picks up the pace.

“Fuck,” he gasps, throwing his head back against the sofa cushion as he drives up into you. “I’m gonna– I’m gonna fill you.”

The words send a thrill straight to your core. You know it’s just talk, just a fantasy you both love, but hearing him say it with such raw need drives you wild.

“Do it,” you encourage him, breathless. “Cum for me. Fill me up.”

“I'm going to flood you,” he snarls, snapping his hips harder so his balls slap against your ass cheeks. He roars, slamming into you one last time. He buries himself to the base, pressing his pelvis tight against yours. You feel him spill into you, flooding your insides with thick spurts.

“Namjoon...” you whine, overwhelmed by the heat spreading through your belly.

He groans against your neck, his whole body trembling as he empties himself completely. He holds you tight, refusing to let you move, making sure you take everything he has to give.

You collapse against his chest, exhausted and blissed out. His heart thuds rapidly under your ear. He wraps his arms around you, one hand stroking your hair while he stays buried inside you, still twitching occasionally.

“You’re my muse,” he whispers, kissing the top of your sweaty head. “I think I just got the perfect idea for the lyrics.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You’ll owe me song credits for this.”

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